


Honour and Steel

by PaladinGarrus



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Adventure, All aboard the Feels train, Banter, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Military Training, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 115,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaladinGarrus/pseuds/PaladinGarrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sole Survivor is bad at trusting people. Paladin Danse is bad at trusting himself. She needs to find her missing son and he needs to find a way to stop blaming himself for all the deaths around him. In order to do that, both must learn to trust again and to ask for help. But first, they really need to learn how to stop pissing each other off during missions.</p>
<p>This story follows mostly the Brotherhood of Steel storyline, but with adjustments to both the quests and the protagonist's pre-war background. I like to believe that what we see and hear in the game are only fractions of what is happening, so I'm taking creative liberties when filling out the gaps and fleshing out the story. If you wanted to see an identical copy of what happened in the game, you would probably be playing that anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost Boston

_The light hit her eyes in an almost painful way. Fox shielded her face with a raised arm, blinded for a moment. Able to see again, she gasped at the sight of the field of waste that used to be Boston. Destroyed buildings clashed horribly with the amount of lush greenery around them, as if humankind had been gone for a long time and nature had started to reclaim what was rightfully hers._

Fox unwillingly relived the moment she had emerged from Vault 111 in her head once more. It had been a few weeks since that horrid day and it finally started to sink in that the Commonwealth Wasteland was her reality now. Even after she had stumbled upon Abernathy Farm and spent over a week helping the family with farming in return for food and shelter, she had refused to believe any of this was real.

Some part of her must have believed it though, judging by her reluctance to share her real name with the family. Surprisingly, nobody had even raised an eyebrow when she claimed her name to be Fox. Did foxes even exist anymore? Could it be that they were wiped out with most normal fauna? Or she just hadn't encountered a horrid mutated version of the animal yet.

The first time Fox saw the abomination the naked mole rat had become, she had surely been grateful to have found the 10mm pistol from the Vault and to have had at least some training with guns. The first bullets had obviously missed and she ended up bashing the skull of the last critter with the back of her pistol, but she had survived. After that, she made sure to get some target practise every day, walking a bit further from the farm as not to scare the brahmin. Even while she still believed everything to be a horrid nightmare she couldn't wake up from, she still had enough self-preservation instincts to prepare for anything. And in this world, it meant you had to prepare for everything. Even eating a tato straight from the field was dangerous, as everything had to be cooked in order to not get cooked by radiation yourself.

Fox wasn't entirely sure how cooking removed irradiation residue or whether anything around her made sense anymore. Her university education and the brief introduction to working life had not prepared her for this. She hated looking stupid, but as the Abernathys already knew she was a Vault dweller (it was kind of difficult to hide that glaring blue Vault-Tec jumpsuit), she had claimed she was a computer technician in her Vault and had no prior contact to anything outside that shelter. The lie appeared to work well enough and the Abernathys didn't seem to be overly talkative people anyway.

Somewhere in the middle of pondering post-apocalyptic cooking techniques the truth finally hit her. It felt like being punched in the gut and having someone claw at her heart at the same time. She was alone again. Nate was… Nate was dead. He was gone. She had barely even looked at him in the Vault before escaping, not wanting to have that image burnt into her head after waking from the nightmare. And Shaun!

Fox crumpled to the ground, clutching at her chest as she felt waves of insane grief ripple over her. The pistol hit the patch of ragged grass next to her with a sad thump. Her breathing came in short bursts, interrupted by hysterical crying. Alone. And even worse, she had failed her baby. She had failed her only child. She had done the one thing she swore to never do. She was supposed to be there for Shaun, supposed to let him have the kind of childhood she never had.

The panicky crying lasted for at least an hour. It seemed like even the Wasteland realised she needed that time for herself as there were no mole rats digging their way to where she was and not even any scared radstags hopping past. No Abernathy had come to search for her, since it had become customary for Fox to take a few hours to herself every day, taking a walk to stretch her legs and get some target practice done.

When Fox returned, Connie took a quizzical look at her shredded hands, but helped to patch them up even without knowing what had happened. Fox felt too embarrassed to admit she had started a boxing match with the nearest tree in sheer rage after she had stopped crying. The rage had helped though. It had filled Fox with fiery determination. If this all was real and Nate was dead, she was the only person left in this world to take care of Shaun. She did not know who had taken her son or why, but she would find them and make them suffer. Shaun had better be alive and well when she found him or the captors would be wishing they were already dead.

Connie knew better than to ask why when Fox offered to trade the Vault jumpsuit for any pieces of armour and ammo she could spare. Even though she had offered shelter to this young woman, she knew close to nothing about her. With that new look in her eyes that Connie could only describe as a combination of despair and hatred, Fox did not appear to be someone who would take kindly to unnecessary questions. Not that she had been willing to part with information about herself before, but this was different.

Seeing the Vault dweller dressed up in a mismatched array of old trousers that were only held together thanks to liberal usage of tape, a tattered long-sleeved shirt and worn-out pieces of various leather armour sets, Connie asked just one question. "Where will you be going?" Fox slowly shook her head, throwing an old backpack over her shoulder to finish the outfit. "Wherever I need to. Someone was taken from me and I need to get them back." She extended her hand to Connie and shook it with a firm grip.

"Thank you for everything, I would not have survived out here without your help and guidance. I hope to be able to return the favour one day." Giving Connie a final nod goodbye, Fox squared her shoulders and started her journey. The farmer sighed at the sight of the ragdoll adventurer growing smaller in the distance. "One pair of hands less again." Grabbing the bucket of tatos she had harvested that day, she set back to her duties. In the Commonwealth, work never ended.

Walking away from the farm, Fox stretched her fingers carefully to relieve the itching caused by the bandages. That had been stupid. It provided some release of anger at that point, but stupid nevertheless. She was a grown woman now, with a child to take care of. Wherever he was, Fox would rescue Shaun from those monsters and get a chance to be the mother she wanted to be.

Her knowledge of pre-war Boston seemed to be virtually useless at this point. With no landmarks in sight, Fox decided to follow the power lines heading out from the high voltage tower serving as the base for the farm building. If there was nothing else she could trust, she could feel safe in the knowledge that such lines should lead her to an area with high energy usage. Some of the buildings in that area must have survived the blast. And in those buildings she would find people who might have answers to the questions burning her brain right now.

Making her way downhill, a settlement of mostly preserved houses caught her interest a bit further to her left. It seemed like a very tempting location, until she heard distant gunfire from that direction. "Nope," she muttered to herself, aligning her feet with the power lines above her head again. "That is way too much gunfire for one person to handle."

After an uneventful hike through wasteland nature, she claimed a lone abandoned house as her shelter for the night. It was scantily furbished, with a bare mattress on the ground, a desk, a chair that was lying on its side and a… chemistry station? "Seems like I found the home of the witch of the woods," chuckled Fox to herself. "Or a drug dealer. In any case, I'm glad the owner isn't here." It felt odd to talk to herself, but even Fox needed to hear a human voice every now and then. It made her feel just a tiny bit less lonely.

"So that's why elderly people start muttering to themselves," she guessed mid-yawn as she tried to make herself comfortable on the mattress. "Your own company is better than no company." With that, she positioned the pistol next to the mattress so she could grab it easily, closed her eyes and waited for dreams to take her away.

As she was woken from her slumber by sun shining _straight_ into her eyes (what idiot would place the mattress there?), Fox felt like she had barely slept at all. That was probably true, she had always been bad at that. Nate had kept telling her to get some sleeping pills, but Fox was vehemently against any meds she could avoid. Also, the pills were completely out of question once she had gotten pregnant with Shaun. What if she'd sleep through something that could harm the baby? Like she'd have insane cramps in her sleep and not wake up? And after Shaun was born, it was even worse. Fox couldn't accept the chance that she might _not_ wake up when he needed her.

She forced herself to get up, groggily rubbing at her eyes. Apparently she had missed something when she arrived in the dark. There was a hatch that probably lead to the cellar. That would also explain the weird positioning of the mattress – it was hauled out of the way to go down. Which meant whoever did that, might still be in the cellar. _So not worth it._ If you don't know anything about a person, assume they have no good intentions. That strategy had rarely failed Fox and she did not intend to abandon it any time soon.

Quickly gathering her few belongings, she made her way out of the shack. She decided to lose no more time in that area, so she fished out some hastily packaged mole rat chunks from the backpack to satiate her rumbling stomach and made her way along the power lines once more, chewing on the dry meat. The Abernathys were more used to vegetable meals, so she didn't expect them to make anything magical out of the mole rats she hunted, but the texture never failed to disappoint her. Ah, what she would give for proper food. Even a tin of Pork n' Beans would taste like a gourmet meal by now.

The day proved to be rather uneventful. Fox had mostly feared coming upon new horrifying versions of pre-war creatures, but the worst animal she met that day was a drug dealer. It took her a moment to realise that _Jet_ and other _chems_ that this man was talking about were drugs. Figures, even in a post-apocalyptic world people would rather come up with new ways to trash their bodies instead of trying to make things better for themselves and others around them.

Was it her power of persuasion or the glint of madness in her eyes as she was waving her pistol around, but the dealer and his friend left the diner they had been staking out. Fox had little sympathy for the young man rocking back and forth on the floor of the diner, clearly under the influence of drugs or rather suffering from rather violent symptoms of withdrawal. She felt more sorry for Trudy – the mother had been threatened with being shot over her son's drug addiction and was now left taking care of that wreck of a human being.

Feeling a wave of uncomfortable memories coming back, she barely listened to Trudy thanking her and promising to get her son clean of that garbage. She felt borderline rude as she muttered it was nothing and backed out of the small diner building. She did agree to take some ammo as payment for her help though, as that really came in handy. Her stash had been almost depleted as she found the diner; Connie hadn't had too many 10mm bullets in her stockpile.

To her great dismay, the path laid out by the power lines had to be abandoned that day. It had led her to some bigger buildings indeed, but the amount of gunfire coming from there was way higher than she found comfortable to deal with. "If only I had an army behind me," she mused bitterly. The railroad she had almost crossed made for a nice guide though, helping her get to a bigger road. That one would definitely take her to a settlement somewhere. Then the only questions would be what hostility levels does that place have and whether she could find shelter and help there.

She spent the night curled up on the partially rotten floors of a building that had been mostly blown away by the nuclear blast. Fox felt exposed, shuffling her back as close to the scrap of wall as she could. She had a few bleeding wounds on her arms and legs from squashing the giant radroaches that had been inhabiting the ruins. Her gun was of little use against such a swarm – while you try to shoot one, three others try to bite you from behind. Nasty critters. Fox shuddered as she drifted away into restless sleep.

She hadn't gotten far next morning before the Pip-Boy on her arm started making a weird noise. "What's up, boy?" she quizzed the device, a familiar tinge of excitement going through her body. This was something she knew she could fix. Sure, the ones she had handled had been slightly older models, but the basics stayed the same. Ah, this one had been set up to notify the user in case a new radio station came in range. Quite handy. "Or should I call it quite _arm-y_?" she chuckled quietly, jabbing her finger at the Pip-Boy. God, she needs some proper human company with actual conversations, pronto.

Fox tuned in to the right wavelength and froze as she heard the transmission. Soldiers in need of help. That didn't sound good. If a team of soldiers couldn't handle whatever they were dealing with, was it really a good idea to get involved? Still, she couldn't help herself from moving in the direction of Cambridge Police Station, cursing herself the entire way. "This is _not_ a good idea, Fox," she chided herself. The image of Nate in her head did not allow her to stop though. "What if the people who helped Nate during his last tour had thought the same? He would not have survived."

She felt a pang of pain as she realised Nate was dead anyway, but tried to brush the thoughts away. She could maybe help buy some more time for that squad. Besides, there was a personal stake in that as well. The world may have changed, but Fox was certain that even in this wasteland, the high-ups in the military would have access to information way beyond what any civilian could get.

The sound of gunshots and shouting was guiding her in the right direction as she approached the police station. Holding her pistol at the ready, Fox carefully eased herself around the last corner, trying not to draw attention to her presence. For a moment, she froze in place. A man in power armour was fighting off a horde of… what the hell were these? The human-like creatures moved in a fast shuffle, dragging their bony legs over the asphalt and making the most horrid guttural noise Fox had ever heard. Their bodies were partially covered by rags that _probably_ had been of some other colour than dirty grey at some point in their lives. But the faces… the bone structure bore a close resemblance to that of human faces, but the skin was melted together into a horrid mess.

Fox's free hand flew to her mouth as she fought the urge to throw up. These were humans. Or had been humans. And she was about to walk in there? Hell no. She was already turning around, ready to flee, when she heard a scream of pain that snapped her head back to the action. In her panic, she had not noticed there were two other people present. Next to the hulking form in the power armour she hadn't even seen the woman who was now dragging away a badly wounded man who had apparently been run over by these zombie creatures. The armoured one did his best to shield his partners, but they were getting overwhelmed.

"Fuck everything," muttered Fox, hating herself as she scampered up the stairs near the corner, placing herself on a higher bridge-like construction. "Fuck-fuck-fuck!" she repeated in her head, extending her shaking arms and shooting at the abominations below, doing her best to avoid the soldiers. Some bullets missed, but some found their intended targets, crippling the creatures and slowing their advance. That seemed to buy the others the time they needed. The woman dragged her wounded companion up the entrance stairs and propped him against the wall.

Fox was glad to see the woman re-joining the battle as she was developing a small battlefront of her own – some of the disfigured humans had spotted her shooting from the bridge and were now making their way up the stairs. Fox found herself scampering backwards as she frantically emptied her pistol at the nearest creatures while trying to remain unseen to the ones below. Fortunately, the others seemed to be making short work of their share of these zombies as the onslaught was slowly coming to its end.

The last living abomination that had been clawing at her slumped to the ground as a laser beam from below sliced through its head. Fox collapsed with her back against the railing, trying to control her breathing as she attempted to assess the gashes on her arms and legs. A shout cut through her cloud of panic. "Civilian!" She slowly turned herself around to look down at the soldier who had called out. Boy, he seemed angry. Thick brows knitted together in a scowl, he stared her down. Even from her higher vantage point, she felt tiny under that furious glance. "State your business!"

"Can you at least lower your gun?" Fox was amazed she was even able to say anything, but her adrenaline kick seemed to win over anxiety. Making sure she wasn't moving in any way that could be perceived as a threat, she slowly made her way down the stairs. Her right hand was slightly extended to the side with the gun to show she was not going to do anything with it. Hell, she was out of bullets anyway.

The soldier had lowered his weapon, but his stance remained cautious. "State your business," he repeated.

"I'm a pest exterminator. Saw you had a bit of a zombie problem," Fox tried to lighten the atmosphere. That did not seem to do the trick as the response was an even deeper scowl. _Damn, did this man's eyebrows have their own life or something? And would they start curling towards the inside of his face if he frowned even harder?_

"Evading my questions is a sure-fire way of getting yourself ejected from the compound."

 _Why did it feel like being scrutinised by a teacher at school?_ Fox raised her left arm to show the Pip-Boy. "I caught your transmission. Figured you could use some help." That did not seem to help much either, since the soldier still looked angry. Fox pondered whether he had issues with accepting help.

"You could have gotten yourself killed, civilian!" _Ah, that would explain._ "Sneaking in like that, you're lucky you did not get shot on sight!"

Fox raised her eyebrows at the display of rage. "Oh I'm sorry, did not realise I should have walked up and stated my presence before shooting the creatures down."

The woman had stepped next to the soldier in power armour. "Give her a break, Danse, she was just trying to help." So the tin man was named Danse. "He doesn't mean to be so grumpy," the woman continued. "It's just… It's been a rough day and we didn't see you joining the fight. Could have easily shot you if we had seen sudden movement on the bridge." She chuckled. "I guess you're lucky to be good at hiding."

Danse gave her a stare similar to the one Fox had just received. "You are out of line, Scribe Haylen. This is no laughing matter." He returned his gaze to Fox, pausing for a moment. "Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we've been constantly under fire. The feral ghoul attack was just the latest of our problems." He seemed to be calming down, which was a huge relief for Fox. She could handle angry people, but it was definitely not her favourite pastime. Those situations often brought out the bitterly sarcastic side of her that would probably be best kept stashed away in this particular company.

"So, these things are called feral ghouls?" she asked before realising she had even spoken.

Danse's forehead reacquired the "furiously furrowed" formation. "Where have you been living, civilian, a vault?" _Shit. Don't freeze, come up with something. Damnit, Fox! Anything!_ "Uh, no idea." _Shit, not that!_

"What do you mean _no idea_?"

 _Does his face sometimes get stuck like this? Would make sense, considering how much he scowls. Damn, he's still waiting for an answer. Think-think-think!_ "Uh, I probably got into a bad fight. Woke up one day with no idea where I was, must have been a hard knock on the head. So you could say I am relearning how to handle the Commonwealth. Still missing quite a lot of pieces of the puzzle, including the correct names of most things."

Fox was holding her breath, expecting to be ejected from the compound as Danse had threatened before. To her great surprise, even if he did not quite buy the lie, he at least did not question it out loud. "Well, whoever you are, we are grateful for the help." Fox breathed out, relaxing her shoulders as the man continued. "I am Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel." Indicating his companions, he introduced them as Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. Fox thought to herself that the men of this squad were probably picked for their grumpy looks as Rhys seemed to be a slightly smaller version of Danse in that regard. Haylen on the other hand appeared to be glad to have someone new around.

For an uncomfortable moment, Fox felt scrutinised by Danse as he seemed to be taking in her tattered appearance. The tape that was holding her trousers together had become partially undone on her left leg, revealing her shin that was scattered in bug bites and dried blood from her battle with radroaches. Fox slid her hands behind her back to hide the bloodied knuckles. Her bandages were probably somewhere on the bridge. Or in the mouth of one of those ghouls, since she was pretty sure someone had bitten her left hand. Fox nearly gagged at the thought.

The next thing out of Danse's mouth came as a surprise to her. "If you would like to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."

Fox could have sworn Rhys growled at that proposition. "I'm _fine_ ," he snapped, pushing himself off the ground and falling back the next moment, cursing under his breath. "Come on, I'll patch you up," offered Haylen, helping the disgruntled knight up. "See you inside!" That could have been directed at either Danse or Fox, but that was the last thing on the wanderer's mind at that point. She was more intrigued by why Danse suddenly wanted her help after nearly biting her head off earlier. Figuratively, of course.

"I don't join up with people I don't know." She assumed an almost military stance with her hands clasped behind her back without even realising it. For a moment she thought Danse was suppressing a smile. "Fair enough. As stated earlier, I am from the Brotherhood of Steel. My squad is here on recon duty, but I'm down a man and our supplies are running low."

She smirked. "Not sure how I could help with that, not being a man and all." Danse did not seem amused, so Fox forced the corners of her mouth downwards in a serious expression, motioning him to continue. "I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal is too weak to reach them. Scribe Haylen has modified the radio tower of this compound, but it still isn't enough. We were about to head to ArcJet Systems to get their Deep Range Transmitter for boosting the signal when we got overwhelmed by ghouls."

Fox's eyes widened in excitement. Now that was something she could get behind. After that day's horrors it would be great to get some tinkering done. She had to force herself to focus on Danse's voice instead of her inner monologue. "The plan is to infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter and bring it back here." He looked at her expectantly. "So, what do you say? Ready to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?"

Trying to suppress her curiosity over a potential new piece of technology, Fox reminded herself that she still had no idea about the mysterious organisation she was about to get involved with. That was not the army after all and she needed to make sure they would be able to help if she helped them out. "What exactly is the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology, its power," the metal chest of his power armour almost seemed to puff with pride, "Its meaning to us as humans. And we fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it."

She didn't manage to hold her tongue after hearing that. "Oh, so you loot everything you see and keep it to yourself? _Noble_." If Danse had felt insulted, he did a very good job not showing it. " _Looting_ implies that we're attempting to benefit ourselves. That couldn't be further from the truth." _Well, you sure look cosy in your power armour._ This time she managed to not say it out loud.

"So what do you say? Will you help us?" At that question, Fox pointedly measured Danse with her eyes and then looked down at her own equipment. "Seems a rather unfair distribution of weapons and armour." She clicked her pistol, pointing it at the ground. "Also, I seem to have a bad case of _no damn ammo_."

For the first time, Danse almost offered her a smile. "That can be fixed. I do not have a spare suit of power armour and in any case, those are reserved for members of Brotherhood of Steel. You can however stock up on ammo in the police station and we should be able to find you something slightly _less_ open to wear."

Fox lifted and shook her leg, the torn remains of her trousers flapping around. "Anything would be an upgrade at this point," she responded, suppressing a grunt of pain. _Note to self: don't shake limbs that have recently made a closer acquaintance with zom- …ghouls. Fuck, that hurt._ Pretending to be fine, she jerked her head towards the doors. "So, let's get going."

This time Danse did actually smile. "Outstanding."


	2. Still Standing

The mission had gone wrong from the very beginning. The Commonwealth was in no way friendlier than the Capital Wasteland, as Recon Squad Gladius had found out first-hand. The unfortunate encounter with raiders they had experienced upon arrival paled in comparison with what was yet to come. Sure, it had been embarrassing to be overpowered by a ragtag bunch of thieves, but all seven of them had survived. Paladin Danse had ordered them to set up in Cambridge Police Station so they would have a secure base to fall back to.

That base soon became a house of unpleasant thoughts and memories for all of them. Each time they returned from a mission, the normally ever-present squad banter grew quieter. The constant destruction of equipment on their operations, failure to achieve mission targets and above all, the loss of people, was wearing all of them down.

Danse looked around in the entrance hall of their makeshift base. It had looked almost like a luxury hotel to them when they had arrived – sure, the paint was peeling and parts of the building had collapsed, blocking their way to upper floors, but they had a roof over their head and the walls were sound enough so they only had to protect the entrance. With a bit of searching, they had even been able to procure enough mattresses for everyone so they did not have to sleep in shifts.

In his mind, he could still see all of them sitting there, sharing stories and occasionally having a post-mission drink. Danse never joined for the last bit and tried to discourage his squad from overindulging, but even he knew better than to ban alcohol entirely. With everything these people had to endure, they deserved the downtime. Even the Paladin had nearly decided to join for a drink after their last loss as he was running out of weapons to clean in order to keep his mind off the painful memory.

Knight Keane was sitting at the table, sharing a meal with Scribe Haylen. Danse was glad to have both of them still alive. He could be a good leader, but keeping up the spirits of the squad between missions had never been his forte, these two soldiers outclassed him in that regard. Danse shook his head bitterly. _Can I even call myself a good leader anymore? If I were, there would be three more knights joining for that meal._

The only remaining squad member besides Keane and the Scribe was Rhys. He chose solitude over the quiet chatter the other two were engaged in, sitting on his mattress and eating straight out of a can. He had not been the same soldier, not since Brach had stepped on that mine at Corvega. They had clearly meant a lot to each other, Rhys had not been that close to any other brother.

The loss of Brach, Worwick and Dawes was weighing down on Danse most of all. He respected and valued all of his soldiers equally, but that last death had felt personal. At least they could give the others a proper burial. But Knight-Sergeant Dawes… he had to be left at Fort Strong, the super mutant forces had been overwhelming and they had no way of retrieving his body. Dawes never even stood a chance.

Danse’s fists curled up in anger as the scene replayed in his head. It was all his fault. He should have been at the head of the squad; he should have ordered Dawes to stay back. The Knight had gotten a bit too far ahead, scouting out one of the buildings that were scattered in ruins around the fort. He hadn’t seen the sledgehammer coming until it was too late. Danse had witnessed a lot in his time of service, but the way Dawes’ head just disintegrated into bits of skull and brain matter left even him chilled to the bone.

Though they could not secure the assets at Fort Strong, the squad did avenge his death. The guilty mutant was shot down by Danse personally. Blinded by his rage, he had been very close to not giving the orders to retreat. The only thing stopping him from launching himself against the growing number of abominations creeping out from their hiding places had been the paper-white face of Haylen. Seeing the horror on her face had forced him to think of those who were still alive, those he could still protect.

The feeling of failure was alleviated only by the findings of Haylen as they retreated to their base in shame. She had picked up on odd energy readings that belonged to the Institute. The location of the shadowy organisation had never been found, so this information was of utmost importance and had to be reported to the Elder immediately. Danse wished he knew more about repairing electrical equipment – as competent as Haylen was, even she was struggling with getting the radio antenna to work and could probably use some help.

Noticing his hands were still in fists, Danse tried to relax his body. No use in dwelling over the people he had lost. He would have plenty of time to do that later. For now, his mission was to get in contact with the Elder. “Haylen, report on your progress with the antenna.” She had to slightly crane her neck to look at her superior. “I’ve managed to fix the radio tower and modify it to our needs, but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough. The signal is too weak to reach the range we need.” She set down the cup she had been holding and stood up.

“If I may, sir, I think I have found the solution though. I was about to report after the meal.” Haylen looked almost sheepish. She was brilliant, but occasionally forgot to inform the others of the information she had or how to explain things plainly enough for non-Scribes to understand. Worwick had come closest to understanding the Scribe’s work, but the Haylen-to-soldier translator was now gone. “Proceed,” Danse encouraged her to part with the information. “And in normal English, please.”

Haylen grinned and grabbed a stack of papers she had piled on a nearby cabinet. “I had been going over these maps I found in the chief’s office. Close to our location, there is a building that should have exactly what we need to amplify the signal.” She shuffled through the papers to find the map she needed, unfolded it in one swift move and tapped her index finger on ArcJet Systems on the discoloured paper. “According to my data, there should be a Deep Range Transmitter here.”

“Outstanding, Scribe.” Suddenly remembering he had probably not eaten since the previous evening, Danse ordered the others to finish their meal and get ready for the new mission. His weapons were already cleaned and lined up, so he allowed himself to take a seat and enjoy a quick lunch. _Enjoy_ may have been too strong a word for it though. As a soldier, he was used to surviving on military rations and the endless array of tinned food, but a nice roast would be a welcome change.

“I think I heard something.” Knight Keane grabbed his weapon and made for the door to inspect. Danse dropped his half-empty tin of beans. Keane’s instincts were rarely wrong and the urgency in his voice was not promising anything pleasant. Within a minute everyone was equipped and out the door, with Danse clunking in front of them in power armour. The perimeter they had set up around the entrance area was still clear, but a quick glance beyond their barricades explained the noise Keane had heard. Moving with startling speed, a group of feral ghouls was launching themselves towards the fortifications. Danse lifted his trusty Righteous Authority, face saturated with disgust. Ghouls were his most hated abominations, with the sole exception of super mutants who deserved to be wiped out with a load of mini-nukes.

The squad had started out with the belief that this would be a quick scum-cleaning intermission before they headed for their main mission of the day. After a gruesome hour, new ferals still kept pushing on, stumbling over the dead bodies of their predecessors. Danse could see Keane getting tired and starting to make mistakes, his rifle missing more than it hit. He had still not fully recovered from the raider assault and Danse had already expressed his doubts over him joining for the mission at Fort Strong, but Keane had been stubborn as ever.

“Keane, pull back!” Danse took out another ghoul that had nearly reached his soldier who was either not hearing the Paladin or choosing not to hear. _Damnit_. “Knight Keane, retreat to the station! That is an order!” Keane turned his face towards Danse with a near-disoriented look on his face. His arms were covered in bleeding gashes from all the ferals that he had not managed to gun down in time. _He should have stayed behind._

“Danse, ahead!” shouted Haylen, cutting through the noise of the approaching horde. Danse’s gaze snapped back to the opening in the barricade and he let out a quiet curse. This had got to be the biggest onslaught so far. “Haylen, go send out a distress call!” he barked behind him. “We need assistance!” To make sure she got back to the police station, he provided cover for the Scribe sprinting towards the door from the barricade she had been crouching behind. Sudden movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention just as the door fell shut behind Haylen.

For a brief second, everything seemed to be standing still. Before Danse could react and pull the trigger to mow down the approaching ghoul, the abomination launched itself at the throat of Keane who had fallen to the asphalt just moments before. “NO!” shouted Danse, a familiar feeling of helplessness and rage taking over. _Not another one, I can’t lose another soldier._ In two steps, he was at Keane’s body, punching the ghoul with the fist of his power armour. The creature flew off like a ragdoll, but the damage was done. He was late. _I have failed him_.

He didn’t even get the chance to transport the body to safety before the giant horde was upon them, ripping apart the remains of Keane and forcing the remaining two soldiers to retreat towards the doors. With their backs nearly to the wall, the only thing they could hope for was a miracle. “I sent the distress call!” Haylen had returned, taking her position slightly behind the two soldiers. It was an unspoken rule that she was never on the frontline. The Scribe had to be protected. Even if the frontline had shrunk to two people, they had a duty to keep her alive. As pained as they were to lose another Knight, they knew the squad would be lost in this hostile corner of the great Wasteland without their Scribe, not to mention that strictly speaking, she was a civilian.

Against all odds, they managed to hold out for another hour. Danse considered barricading themselves inside, but even then it would be only a matter of time until the ghouls would break through and they might lose another squad member while retreating.

Rhys was the first one to go down. He was a good soldier, but even he could not clear the area around them anymore. “Pull him back,” ordered Danse, but he didn’t really need to say it. Haylen had already dropped her gun and was dragging the cursing soldier away from the centre of the action as Danse tried to give them space by shooting everything that tried to get too close. Oddly enough, he could have sworn that some ghouls were not taken down by his weapon. There had to be someone else nearby, judging by the crippled ghouls on the ground.

With Rhys set in a seated position against the wall, Haylen rushed back to grab her weapon. She knew it should never be dropped, but Danse could not be angry with her at that point. At least Rhys was still alive. _Speaking of alive… there is something happening on the bridge. I could swear I saw someone’s head_. The ghouls storming the stairs to his right had alerted Danse to the presence of someone on top of the fortifications and after a closer look, he felt stunned. _By steel, that’s a civilian._

With Haylen taking care of the ghouls that remained on the ground, Danse focused his attention on sniping down the abominations above. _I swear, if there is going to be another dead body on my watch…_ Danse didn’t finish the thought. The last of the attackers fell, leaving the stranger on the bridge frantically gasping for air as she tried to catch her breath.

 _Of all the reckless things today… By steel, if I had not noticed her and shot her down for a ghoul? What the hell was she thinking?_ “Civilian, state your business!” He didn’t even notice he was still pointing his gun at the bridge as he demanded information, his voice nearly a growl. “Can you at least lower your gun?” requested the woman, sounding shaky from the battle. Danse scowled, realising he had been accidentally targeting her, and pointed Righteous Authority towards the asphalt.

The stranger wore the weirdest outfit Danse had seen in a long time. Neither the ragged clothes nor the mismatched pieces of leather armour seemed to be her size. The way she approached the Brotherhood soldiers made her look almost as if she were approaching wild animals and the impression grew only stronger when he saw the cautious look in her eyes. However, the flippant response she gave to Danse’s repeated question seemed very conflicting with her appearance. “I’m a pest exterminator. Saw you had a bit of a zombie problem.”

Danse brushed off the odd word usage, scowling at the insolence. “Evading my questions is a sure-fire way of getting yourself ejected from the compound.” His usual stare-down seemed to work on the civilian as she offered a much more appropriate explanation and showed her Pip-Boy. That raised more questions than it answered though. _Who was this woman? Why did she feel compelled to help them? And why the hell would she sneak in like that, if she was here to help?_

Danse expressed the last of his thoughts in a slightly angrier tone than intended. _Easy now. As foolish as her actions were, she is not to blame for your mistakes and inadequacies._ To his surprise, she did not seem to be fazed by his anger, answering with another smart quip about not realising she should have stepped up and announced her arrival before shooting. His annoyance started building up again, but Haylen stepped in to defuse the situation. He was almost ready to move past the stranger’s cheekiness and attempt to recruit her to help with the mission – which still had to be accomplished, even with Rhys down – when she suddenly said something that broke his train of thought. _She had never encountered ghouls or even heard of them?_ “Where have you been living, civilian, a vault?”

She seemed to be thrown off by the question, acquiring the look of a spooked radstag for a brief moment. Something wasn’t quite right here. “Uh, no idea,” came the unexpected answer. She seemed to be as confused by what she had just said as were the others around her. The clumsy explanation about memory loss was clearly a lie. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Danse deliberately ignored the ridiculous story as to not scare the stranger away. He could find out later why she felt the need to lie. She was the only non-hostile human he had encountered in the Commonwealth aside from his own squad, so this would have to do.

“Well, whoever you are, we are grateful for the help.” The woman was visibly relaxing, clearly thinking that her ruse had been bought. Danse introduced himself and the remaining two members of his squad and then stopped for a moment to inspect the potential recruit more thoroughly. She didn’t look entirely weak, but by steel, she was scrawny. Danse suspected that if she’d remove the leather pads, her shoulders would jut out, not unlike the knee that had escaped her trousers that seemed to be held together by pure hope and copious amounts of tape. Her legs sported several nasty scratches from the ghouls that had pinned her down and some other marks that looked suspiciously like bug bites.

Her arms were equally covered in dirt, ghoul spatters and slightly older injuries that had evidently not been properly cleaned. Still, all of that could be fixed with a bit of washing, some bandages and generous meals. What was most important was the clear look in her eyes. Her part-hesitant, part-insolent attitude and even the mess of ginger hair around her head reminded him of the firecracker with whom he had joined the Brotherhood. He had been a fine soldier, if a bit rough around the edges. _There is potential_. Even Danse himself wasn’t sure whether he actually saw something in this scraggy woman or it was his desperation speaking when he offered her a job.

If anyone was more shocked than the stranger, it had to be Rhys. Danse should have guessed this he would take it as an insult. Rhys had singlehandedly managed to scare away several recruits as he deemed them to be filthy scavengers out for money, with no higher ideals. Danse was grateful for Haylen’s help as she managed to remove Rhys from the situation to start cleaning his wound that was obviously giving the soldier a lot of pain.

However, the stranger was not convinced by his offer. “I don’t join up with people I don’t know.” _Smart move, I would also remain cautious with an unknown group._ Danse did his best to explain the situation and the purpose of the Brotherhood without giving away any sensitive information. He really needed her to be persuaded by this. The mission did not seem overly difficult, so in a normal situation he could just take Haylen with him to take care of the technological parts. As it was, Rhys could barely stand without support and Danse was not about to leave a wounded soldier at the base without backup, so Haylen had to stay.

To his great relief, he had apparently said something right, seeing as the woman agreed to help the squad out. “Welcome to our base,” he said with thinly veiled pride in his voice as they stepped in the police station. Despite everything they had gone through, the squad still had a chance to succeed in their main mission. Rhys was openly glaring at the newcomer, causing Danse to suppress a sigh. _I will have to talk to him later. Perhaps I can alleviate some of the anger he must be feeling._

“Haylen, when you are done with patching him up, could you see what you can do for-“ Danse paused, turning his glance towards the other woman. “We do not know your name.”

Once more, the stranger looked slightly uncomfortable. “Fox. You can call me Fox.”

Glad to put a name to the face, Danse continued: “See what you can do for Fox’s injuries. Get her some equipment as well, I recall finding some fatigues in one of the lockers.” With a sprightly “Yes sir!”, Haylen wrapped up with Rhys and made herself busy with assisting Fox.

Danse did his best not to pace around while waiting. He needed something to go right for a change, even if it was just a simple sweep and retrieve operation. It felt like it had been ages when Fox finally reported for duty. With her wounds expertly cleaned and bandaged by Haylen and the rags swapped for military fatigues, she looked considerably more fit for the mission. Sure, the clothes were too big for her tiny frame and the utility belt that held the outfit together only accentuated the fact, but for this one field operation it would do. Danse nearly laughed when he noticed she had taped the trouser bottoms, creating strange bell-shaped formations just above her boots to stop the trousers from tripping her. She had applied the same procedure to the sleeves, though it did not seem to work well enough as she kept pushing the sleeves upwards on her freckled arms.

The rumble of her stomach cut through Danse’s musings. “When is the last time you ate?” he inquired. Fox frowned, counting something on her fingers. “A day ago?” she said hesitantly. Danse pointed at the closest chair. “Sit. A hungry soldier is a distracted soldier.” Fox didn’t even argue, taking a seat and gratefully accepting whatever was on offer. Danse had never seen anyone look so excited over a tin of Pork n’ Beans. Her expression changed rapidly after the first bite. “How old is this?”

Haylen picked up the tin, grabbed a bite with her fork and shrugged. “Seems normal to me. As fresh as a centuries-old meal can be.” Danse observed the rapid succession of emotions on Fox’s face with growing curiosity as the woman was trying to overcome whatever internal turmoil she was going through. Danse was not the best at reading emotions, but he thought he had spotted at least disbelief and anger before Fox managed to get her face under control. _Odd. And at least for now, none of my business. We have more important matters to deal with._

Once Fox had finished her meal and they were ready to set out, Danse did the final check for equipment. Both of them were in somewhat proper gear (Danse obviously suited up in his power armour) and had sufficient ammo to neutralise any threats they might encounter on their way to ArcJet Systems. “Time to head out,” announced Danse, flipped the helmet in his hands and slid it on his head in one fluid motion. Fox raised her eyebrows. “Again with this unfair distribution, where’s my helmet?”

“Catch.” Rhys tossed something in her direction so fast that she had barely time to react. Fox snorted in amusement as she saw what the object was. “This has got to be the most hideous excuse for a helmet that I’ve ever seen.” Danse could have bet on Rhys having had the same thought as he found it in the station. That would explain his generosity towards the rookie. “Well, as I look absolutely ridiculous already, might as well finish the outfit,” shrugged Fox with a chortle and pushed the helmet down on her head. It hid her eyes, so she tipped it back just in time to witness the badly suppressed grins of the squad.

“At least if you lose her in the building, you can just look for the lopsided melon,” suggested Haylen, the only one who didn’t even bother hiding her laughter anymore. She tilted her head to inspect the misshapen metal helmet properly. “Could also be a badly beaten mirelurk shell.”

Fox knocked on the rim of the helmet. “As long as it keeps my noggin’ safe!” Observing the banter of the two women, Danse couldn’t help but think that Fox’s joking felt as if she was putting on a show for the benefit of others.

They headed out through the narrow rubble-covered alley next to the police station, Danse leading the way and Fox following in silence. Danse had to occasionally check whether she was still there as she could barely hear her footsteps over the clunking of his power armour. Something seemed to be creaking oddly, he’d have to check that out after they get back. Hopefully it will be a quick fix. If not, he would be back on Prydwen soon enough and then he could ask for a proper check-up from Ingram.

The fog was so thick that Danse could barely see even five metres ahead of them. It made him feel cautious as anything or anyone could be hiding under such convenient cover. “Try not to lag behind,” he warned, turning his head to check on Fox. She was still keeping up, but Danse could see her being slightly out of breath. _Of course, she must be half-running to keep up with me._ Danse slowed down to make sure she would still be of use once they reach the facility.

Their journey was rather uneventful, save for a small raider ambush and the mishap at the crossing where they encountered some dead scavengers with bodies of ghouls scattered around them. Fox thought she saw some useful salvage and triggered a nearby mine as she stepped closer to inspect. Danse felt his heart stop for a moment when he heard the ominous beeping. He refused to lose another person to a mine. Fortunately, he had underestimated his companion’s speed – Fox darted in the opposite direction, throwing herself flat on the ground and covering her head just before the explosion made the ground shake. She took Danse’s stern lecture about wandering off without any complaints or justifying herself. Her face was pale from the shock, but she confirmed she was ready to move on as Danse asked her the question.

Danse stopped her just before they were about to head inside ArcJet Systems. “Listen, we do this clean and quiet. No heroics, by the book. Understood?” Fox nodded. “Stay focused and check your fire. I don’t want to be hit by stray bullets.” He had almost opened the door before he turned around once more. “And no deviating from our course. I do not want you triggering any defence systems or injuring yourself.”

Fox scrunched her nose in disdain. “Yes, I got that part very clearly. I’ll be practically sticking to your heel, don’t worry.”

The building looked ransacked. Every possible piece of furniture was turned over, with drawers and scraps of documents all over the place. An eerie silence enveloped the hall, giving Danse a shiver and forcing him to move on a bit faster than intended. Reaching a room with heaps of broken protectrons, Danse indicated Fox to stay back until he had inspected the area. As she was allowed to enter, she shook her head in disbelief. “Such a waste.”

Danse pointed at the ground. “Look at the evidence. There isn’t a single spent ammunition case or a drop of blood in sight. These robots were assaulted by Institute synths.”

Fox raised her brows in confusion. “Synths?” _Of course she would not know synths, if she couldn’t even identify ghouls._

They’re an abuse of technology created by the Institute,” explained Danse with distaste in his voice. “Mechanical abominations, meant to _improve_ upon humanity. It’s unacceptable, they simply cannot be allowed to exist.” He wasn’t even surprised when the next question was about the Institute. “They’re a group of scientists who went underground when the Great War started. They have spent the last few decades littering the Commonwealth with their technological nightmares.”

Fox seemed to be surprisingly unfazed by this information. If anything, she looked slightly amused. “It sounds like you’re scared of synths.”

She couldn’t see his scowl as he was still wearing his helmet. “There is a measurable difference between being frightened and being prepared.” _Whatever world she is living in, I nearly envy her. Not even knowing about some of the biggest threats in the Wasteland must be so liberating, however naïve it might be._

Exploring the sprawling compound, they finally came upon a dead end. The room was littered with destroyed desks and technology, with the only doors lodged shut. “See if you can find a way to open the doors,” he commanded Fox, pointing the butt of his rifle towards the only desks that had remained upright. “I’ll be on the lookout. There is something off about this place.”

It took a while, but Fox managed to find a terminal that was still functional. “Got it!” she exclaimed victoriously after some quiet muttering and typing. “The security on most of these is a joke. The doors should open in just a moment.” Danse gave her an appraisive look, though she couldn’t tell through his helmet. _Not even Haylen gets through the security on most terminals that fast._

Regrettably, her combat skills didn’t even begin to touch her level of terminal hacking. Facing a squadron of synths just behind the newly opened doors, Fox was more a distraction than she was useful. Trying to take cover behind an upturned desk a bit further from Danse’s position, she didn’t notice getting flanked from the other side. Instead of heading to a better vantage point, Danse was forced to shoot his way through a wave of synths to reach the table, getting the visor of his power armour damaged in the process. “I told you to stick with me, soldier!” seethed Danse after crushing the last synth with his armoured fist.

Fox looked up at him with a similarly angry expression. “ _Not_ a soldier,” she reminded him with a deep scowl, gingerly touching the arm that had gotten singed by a laser. “Listen, I can’t barge in like you do! You seem to forget some people don’t come _equipped_ with cover! What hell the do you expect me to do, just hide myself behind you?”

“If that’s what it takes to survive, yes!” barked Danse back, reaching out his hand to help the wounded companion up. Fox decided to stubbornly ignore that and clambered up from behind the desk on her own, wincing from pain. “Look, I don’t know what’s your problem, but I am _voluntary help_ , remember? I’m no fucking soldier and I have no idea what the fuck do you expect from me. Why did you even bring me along if anything I do is wrong?”

For nearly a minute, they stared at each other in silence, both refusing to speak. “I’m not good with electronics.” Danse’s begrudging statement broke through Fox’s frustration. She stared at him for a moment, corners of her mouth quivering upwards. “That’s it? You brought me along to deal with terminals?” She shook her head in amusement. “That’s colossally stupid of you, considering you had no bloody idea I could even start one.”

“Watch your tone.” Danse was irritated, but he could not deny she had a point there. “Knight Rhys was down, so I could not bring Haylen with me either as I need to keep backup with an injured serviceman in case of an emergency. Truth be told, I had no proof of your capability other than seeing some ghouls taken down, but heading out alone would not have been a good idea. Most areas secured by electronic means can be accessed by brute force as well, but it is more time-costly. I at least needed someone to act as a lookout in those instances.”

Fox seemed to accept that explanation. She pointed at the ramp heading to the next floor. “Alright then, Mr. Tin Can. After you.”

Their mission went on more smoothly after that incident, with Fox mostly staying further to provide minor fire support and Danse doing all the heavy lifting in the form of vaporising anything in their way with his laser rifle. “This is it, the engine core section.” Danse nodded at the heavy doors they had just reached. “Shouldn’t be far now.” Fox grinned with slight effort. “Good, this helmet is driving me insane.” Danse suspected that the helmet was less of a problem than the injuries she had sustained, but he chose not to comment on that.

They were surprised by darkness as Danse pushed the doors open. “Looks like the power is out in this section.” He switched on his headlamp. “You’ll have to stick close to me as I did not think of providing you with a flashlight.”

In response, a light flickered to life right next to him. “No need, my Pip-Boy has one built in,” retorted Fox. “But no worries, I’ll be hiding behind you anyway. Unless I see a cosy-looking desk.”

“Not funny.” _By steel, she is infuriating. I will let it slip for now, but I will have to do something about that attitude if she’s joining._

Before long, they reached the main reactor chamber. To their great dismay, the elevators that would take them up to the control room were not operational due to the power outage. The only way forward was down, so that’s where they headed. “There has to be a power backup system somewhere,” Danse thought out loud as they descended the rickety spiral staircase.

Fox nodded. “Yeah, the maintenance area should be right about here. If I can’t fix the power supply, there should at least be a way to switch on auxiliary power. That is, if the maintenance room isn’t entirely trashed.”

“You get on that then; I will stand guard so we don’t get any more surprises.” Danse assumed his position near the entrance to the maintenance area, rifle at the ready. He didn’t need to wait for long before the lights turned on and an announcement echoed through the room: “Thermal engine fuelled, primed and standing by for your command.” Before the robotic voice finished, Danse spotted movement towards the top of the spiral staircase. “We’ve got incoming!” he shouted as a warning. He automatically oriented himself with his back towards the doorway to shield his less armoured companion.

“Stay back!” he ordered, sniping one enemy after the other. The synths kept swarming down the stairs, shooting at Danse from every angle. _She would be fried in seconds._ “They just keep on coming!” _We are not going to make it like this. I have to make sure at least one of us gets out._ He had to shout so Fox would hear her over the lasers. “Start the thermal engine!”

He had to curse at Fox’s point-blank refusal to follow his order. “Like hell I will!” she shouted from the maintenance room. “Fuck, I’m not going to cook you in there!” Now also ignoring his previous orders to stay back, she cocked her pistol and joined the battle.

This time she was literally using his hulking frame as a shield, leaning out of cover whenever she could take a shot. This worked a lot better than her previous tactics. The balance between her hits and misses was leaning heavily towards the latter, but Danse couldn’t blame her, not when she was using such a sub-par weapon (that pistol had definitely seen better days) and when facing an enemy that was unknown to her.

Just as he thought the rush of synths would never end, Fox shot down the last one and there was silence. No more metal bodies dropping from the top or scattering down the stairs. The floor was covered in broken synth parts, some of them still smoking from the laser. Danse’s power armour had suffered some damage, but it was nothing Proctor Ingram wouldn’t be able to fix. Even his maddeningly stubborn companion seemed to be fine, save for a few new singes that were really nothing compared to the one she had received earlier.

“Well, that was fun,” commented Fox. Her tone suggested the opposite. “Let’s save the part where you shout at me for insubordination for later, if that’s fine by you. And for the record, my response would still be the same: _not_ a soldier.” Danse opened his mouth in anger, but shut it again without a response. _The mission comes first._

A similar procedure repeated after they had taken the elevator up – the control room was infested with synths that opened fire the moment they noticed the humans approaching. Fox used Danse’s power-armoured body as cover and provided fire assistance. Her shooting was still substandard, but at least she was of some help and did not step out in the open, so the amount of injuries was minimal this time.

Turns out the synths had also been after the Deep Range Transmitter and one of them had already managed to grab it. They could have easily ended up shooting through it in the heat of the battle, so they could count themselves very lucky to find it still in one piece. “Asset secured and seemingly in working order,” stated Danse with relief after a quick inspection. “Well done.”

The journey back to the police station was spent mostly in silence. It had gotten dark while they were clearing out the compound, so they had to illuminate the way in order to not stumble upon fallen trees or rogue mines. Fox did not seem overly chatty and Danse reminded himself not to scare her off by being too cross about the disobedience she had displayed. After all, she was a civilian. It could not be expected that she would be following military protocol if it she hadn’t been taught that before.

Just before they reached the police station, Fox broke the silence. “Well, all-in-all I’d say that was a successful mission.” Looking at the big picture, Danse had to agree with that. However, his plans had not included nearly seeing the civilian being blown up or fried by lasers. Several times. “It could have gone smoother.”

Fox chuckled. “What, you don’t normally have squad members playing hide and seek with you on a mission?”

Danse fought back a sigh. “As I said, could have gone smoother. But the main thing is that we’re both alive and the transmitter has been secured. The details are secondary. In any case, this went better than if I had to do it alone. Your skill with electronics came in handy and even though you’re not the best shot, you did take some of them down.”

“Uh, thanks,” responded Fox, not entirely sure how to take that assessment. “So, what happens now? I return the equipment and go on my merry way?”

Danse stopped, pulling off his helmet and setting it down on the barricade next to him. Some conversations called for eye-to-eye contact. “It’s up to you. Of course, you will get compensated for your assistance. In fact, let us get that out of the way first.” He flipped his laser rifle, handing it to Fox stock first. “I think you will find this useful. I may not be a terminal hacking kind of guy, but I do know a thing or two about laser weapons. This is my personal modification of the standard Brotherhood laser rifle.”

Fox grabbed the weapon hesitantly. “Are you sure? That seems like rather disproportionate compensation. Besides, it’s your personal weapon.” She tried to return the rifle, but Danse pushed it back with a gentle move. “This isn’t the only weapon at my disposal. With the pistol you have, you might as well be using a BB gun. Clearly, you need Righteous Authority a lot more than I do.”

Fox snorted out loud at the last bit. “Righteous Authority? You named your gun?” Danse shot a glare in the woman’s direction, warning her to stop. She ignored the hint, her grin growing only wider. “And at that, what a pompous name!” Fox chuckled, ignoring Danse’s annoyance levels that were visibly rising. “I shall avenge these deaths with RIIGHTEOOUUS AUTHOORITY!”

“That is enough,” cut Danse through her clear mockery. “If the rifle is not to your liking, you may return it to me.” That seemed to put a stop to Fox’s merriment at his expense, or at least she attempted to regain a more serious face.

“I’m sorry,” she offered an apology, propping the rifle on her back. “I really am grateful. It’s just that… I’m really bad at dealing with such situations. Usually people don’t really thank me for help like that; they are more likely to try to find a way to weasel out of any kind of payment, unless they decide to take the extra step and stab me in the back to show their gratitude.”

 _Weasel out? What on earth is she saying?_ Danse decided not to ask. “Apology accepted. With this matter out of the way, I have a proposal to make.” For a moment, Fox looked like she was about to make another wisecrack, but she let him continue without interruptions this time. “We had a lot thrown at us back there. Our op could have ended in a complete disaster, but working together, we managed to carry out the operation with only minor casualties. I am not going to talk about the clear disobedience you showed during the mission, since as you very clearly stated, you are not a soldier.”

To his great surprise, Fox was still listening to him in silence, arms clasped behind her back. “The way I see it, you have a choice to make,” continued Danse, his voice getting saturated with pride as his speech was reaching its culmination. “You could spend the rest of your life wandering from place to place, trading an extra hand for a meagre reward.”

“Indeed, not everyone goes around handing out their personal weapons to people who look like they are wearing a melon on their head,” quipped Fox, unable to remain silent any longer. _Damnit, Fox, couldn’t you have given me just this one moment?_

Thrown off track, Danse continued with slightly decreased vigour. “Or, as I was _about_ to say,” he looked at her pointedly, “You could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world.”

Fox was taken aback. “Wait, seriously? You’re not joking?” The Paladin stared at her, thick eyebrows once again scrunched together at the root of his nose. “I do not joke with serious matters such as this. You are in no way a perfect recruit and your combat skills are in serious need of improvement, but there is potential.”

“Also, you have no better options,” responded Fox half-jokingly. Danse sighed in agreement. “And also, I have no better options. The main mission of my squad has been difficult and riddled with problems I could not even anticipate. You happen to be the first non-hostile we have seen for weeks.”

Fox was left pondering for a moment. “What would be expected of me? I am potentially interested, but I need to know what I’d be getting involved with.” She leaned back against the barricade, making herself comfortable. Or as comfortable as one can be with singed skin and some nasty gashes from having close encounters with laser weapons. _Haylen is going to have to patch her up again. I hope we still have enough bandages._

“You would be under my command. And I would expect you to follow orders.” Danse allowed himself a small smile, already knowing that would probably be one of the things she would struggle with the most. Fox nodded. “Well, I’d be losing my _not a soldier_ excuse, so fair enough. What else?”

“You would be taking part in the missions of Recon Squad Gladius, working alongside the others. You would also have access to the same resources as them, including advanced military weapons and, in the future, your own personal suit of power armour.” Danse’s voice adopted a formal tone, emphasising the importance of the message. “Most importantly, you would have the Brotherhood at your back, ready to spill its own blood to keep you alive. So, what do you say to the offer?”

Danse looked at her expectantly. Fox took her sweet time, folding her arms on her chest and staring into distance until Danse started to feel uncomfortable. “I am interested, but I have some conditions,” said Fox just before Danse was about to enquire whether she had suddenly turned mute. She fixed her eyes on the Paladin’s, jaw squared with determination.

“I will help you set up the Deep Range Transmitter, should Haylen need assistance with that. I will also familiarise myself with the requirements of being a Brotherhood soldier and take part in missions. However, I will require time off between the missions to take care of some personal business.” She paused to take a deep breath. “And on that topic, I need access to the information on Brotherhood terminals.”

Danse pondered this for a moment and shook his head. “You are asking an awful lot for a new recruit. The personal time I can grant, at least until we get contacted by the Elder. But access to sensitive information is not mine to give.” _There we go again, that spooked radstag look has returned._ “Fox, I have a counterproposal.” With her voice ever so slightly shaking, Fox uttered quietly that she was listening.

“Listen, I know that something is wrong here and you clearly have some kind of personal motivation to get inside the Brotherhood. You must understand that it looks more than a little suspicious. So how about you try being honest with me and tell me what is it that you need help with and in return I will try to find a way to make it work in a way that benefits us both?”

Fox’s glance darted around as she seemed to be assessing the closest way out of that situation. Danse took a step back, giving her space. She would either start talking or running eventually and he had all the time in the world. Except that he needed to deliver the Deep Range Transmitter to Haylen, but that could easily wait another half-hour.

Having made a decision, Fox took a deep breath and eyed the Paladin warily, still ready to dart off at a moment’s notice. “Alright, I will be honest. Just mentioning that if this ends up stabbing me in the back later on, I will make sure both of us regret it sorely.” She swallowed hard, gathering her courage. “I’m not used to asking for help, but I am facing something I cannot solve on my own. My family member has been kidnapped, I don’t know anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland and I need someone with access to records of missing people or anything else that would set me on the right track.”

Danse had noticed the wedding band on her finger, so he did not doubt this part of her story. _A vengeful wife after the captors of her spouse… that explains some things, but not everything._ “Alright, this covers your motivation, but leaves some other questions in the air. You have not explained the nonsense about memory loss. Why lie about something like that?” After a glance at her mortified expression, he added with a more casual tone: “Come on, you couldn’t really have thought I would believe it.”

“It just comes naturally,” explained Fox with resignation, shoulders drooping. “The less truth you tell, the less you can be hurt. And as I have no idea who was the kidnapper or who to trust in this hellhole, I’m not going to walk about, sharing personal information with strangers I’ve just met.” She offered a weak smile. “As opposed to strangers I have pissed off by being an awful excuse for a soldier.”

Taking a small break, Fox rubbed her neck, cracking a few kinks out before continuing. “So, you want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” Yet again, Danse chose not to ask about her weird choice of words. “The reason I know jack shit about the Commonwealth is that I am from Vault 111. My family was cryogenically frozen and I’ve only just escaped.” There was a hint of pleading and hope in her voice now. “I have only one question: can you please tell me what year it is?”

Danse felt speechless. Cryogenically frozen? What kind of monsters were appointed as Overseers these days? “It’s 2287.” He had to repeat it once more before Fox seemed to register what he had said.

“2287?” she mouthed in pure shock before losing her balance and sliding into a seated position against the barrier. In a shaky move, she took off the helmet and placed it on the ground next to her to clasp her head between her hands in despair. “I’ve lost 210 years!?”

Now it was the Paladin’s turn to be astounded at the numbers. “Excuse me? Are you trying to say you witnessed the Great War?” As she turned her face upwards to meet his, her eyes were filled with tears. “I saw the bombs fall.”


	3. Train Train

The negotiation for the terms of her recruitment had taken a wrong turn. Fox had to admit she had underestimated the Paladin. Of course he had seen through her lies, why wouldn’t he? Her bullshitting game hadn’t really been up to her normal standards ever since she left that Vault. _Need more practise, this cannot happen again._

Oddly enough, he had not banished her immediately when he realised she was trying to trick him into something. Fox wasn’t sure whether it was his assertive voice or her fervent hope that he would actually be able to help her, but for the first time, she spilled the truth about her origins. Letting it slip that she was essentially a pre-war relic had not been part of the plan, but once again she found herself too overcome by despair to be able to put a story together on a moment’s notice.

Danse seemed to feel uncomfortable, towering over her in metal and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. When he exited his power armour and sat down next to her, Fox flinched away, sending him a confused look through tears. “If you’re about to hug me or something to “make the pain go away”, please don’t.”

This did nothing to alleviate Danse’s now obvious discomfort. _What, he doesn’t console centuries-old people on a daily basis? What a shocker._ Despite the pain she was feeling, Fox felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards. _This must be a really weird day for him as well… bet he was not expecting this when he asked me to join. Poor Tin Soldier._

“I am not good at this _hugging_ business,” said Danse with certain stiffness to his voice. “But I can say that once we have made connection with the Elder, I will do my best to help you get the information you need. Nobody deserves to lose a family member.” _Wait, was he actually sounding gentle? No way, must be the wind playing tricks on my hearing._ “In return, you have to promise that you will not be lying to me. About anything.” _Aaand soldier voice is back. Knew it wouldn’t last long._

Fox wiped her eyes with the cleanest spot she could find on her arm and turned to face Danse. “I can’t make that promise. For all I know, he might have been kidnapped by your people. I reserve the right to decide what information I share and when.”

That accusation did not go down well with Danse. “The Brotherhood has never and will never be a part in such crimes. Our goal is to secure the future of humanity, not go around kidnapping people.” The indignation in his voice almost made Fox regret what she had said. Fortunately, he seemed to be getting better at not getting hyped up on anger and nearly biting her face off. She was grateful for that. Having taken a few deep breaths, the Paladin made another counterproposal and after a short discussion they settled on the rules.

Fox would be a good little soldier (or Initiate, as her rank would be), following orders and not telling lies. Faced with a situation where she would be compelled to tell a lie, she could remain silent instead or say she cannot talk about it. Danse would not be telling others anything more about her than strictly needed, especially not about the cryogenic freezing. Also, Danse would make it his priority to discuss a possible course of action to find the kidnappers as soon as it was possible. Fox, on the other hand, would have to keep it in mind that this might not be a priority to the high command of the Brotherhood and she would have to remain patient. Preferably _without_ telling her superiors to fuck off. That last part was going to be a challenge, but Fox promised to do her best.

As they clambered up and dusted off their outfits, Fox asked him to stay for just one more moment. “With all this “telling truth” business, I guess there’s another thing I should get out of the way. No-no, it’s nothing as big as being centuries old, don’t give me that alarmed look.” Fox couldn’t help but allow herself a small chuckle before continuing. “I can’t really go around being called Initiate Fox, so I guess you’re going to need my real name.”

Danse gave her a wry smile. “Yes, a last name would be useful. I don’t really care if you wish to keep your first name a secret as it would not get much usage in any case.” Fox shrugged. _Figures, this really is a copy of the pre-war army. Not really a loss though, never liked my name anyway._

She gave him a mock salute. “Initiate Quinn reporting for duty, sir!” Danse cringed and corrected the position of her arm, adjusting it to the proper angle. “We’ll work on that,” he promised. _Or threatened? With his poker face it’s hard to tell. Oh damn, I’m going to have to go through a proper military drill now. What did I get myself involved with this time?_

By that time, it had turned nearly pitch dark outside. Fox was grateful for the spotlights that were set up around the entrance of the police station, allowing her to find moderately clear spots to step so her feet wouldn’t be entirely covered in ghoul remains. For a moment she thought she had seen an actual human finger, but she shrugged it off as probably belonging to a more well-preserved ghoul. Danse, once again clad in his power armour, didn’t seem to care as much about where he stepped. _The soles of his boots must be disgusting._ Fox shuddered and pushed the thought out of her head. She did not need to know what remains of what creatures could be splattered around, she had experienced enough for one day.

She was re-introduced to Haylen and Rhys, this time as Initiate Quinn. The sound of that was eerily foreign to Fox, but she couldn’t deny it had a nice ring to it. “She is now an official member of Recon Team Gladius.” Danse’s sentence ruptured her bubble of thoughts and she grinned. “Oh, I’m only in it for the spiffy uniforms,” she declared while tipping the edge of her misshapen helmet. The others did not seem to find it as funny as she did. _Jeez, tough crowd!_

“That would explain a lot,” jeered Rhys, sporting his trademark look of hating everything ever. Fox had not had much contact with the Knight, but she could already tell he was not going to make her life easy in this squad. “Oh, and of course for all the wonderful friends I would make here,” she cooed with an even wider grin. “I can already tell we’ll be sitting up all night and braiding each other’s hair.”

“That is enough, Initiate.” Danse was staring her down, giving a clear warning to leave Rhys alone. “And you too Rhys. I don’t need you to become friends, but I do expect you to respect each other as fellow members of the Brotherhood and to work together. In the end, honesty and respect is what will ensure you can trust the soldier by your side with your life.” He gave a curt nod to Fox who at least attempted to look solemn and serious. “Welcome to the Brotherhood, Initiate Quinn.”

“ _Ad victoriam_ , Initiate,” the Scribe chimed in, causing Rhys to frown even deeper. “She doesn’t even know what that means, Haylen,” he snapped, avoiding looking at Danse. Fox shrugged and offered: “For victory?”

“To victory,” corrected Haylen with a smile, giving Rhys a slight nudge with her elbow. “She’s still learning, give her time.” Rhys opened his mouth as to say something, but shut it under the glare Danse was shooting in his direction. Fox made a mental note to find out what stick was stuck up Rhys’ ass to make sure she at least had some leverage in case he became too intolerable.

“ _Ad victoriam_ is our rallying cry,” explained Danse, his voice yet again radiating with pride. “In our eyes, defeat is unacceptable because we are fighting for the future of mankind. This is more powerful than any weapon you could ever carry. Remember that.”

“Will do,” nodded Fox with a smirk, still finding all of this ceremony and the ranks and everything else a bit ridiculous. Remembering her promise to be a proper soldier from now on, she tacked a “sir” at the end of her sentence with a slight delay. The sudden jitter of her body reminded her that she had had a very rough day and it was probably way past the appropriate time to head to sleep. The first thing she did once Danse dismissed them was to find the nearest chair and sit down, planting elbows on her legs to support her head that seemed to be growing heavier by the minute. The helmet slid off, hitting the floor with a startlingly loud bang and drawing everyone’s attention to her.

Cursing, she bowed down to pick up her runaway equipment, but Haylen beat her to it. “Your melon, Quinn.” The Initiate responded to the Scribe’s grin with a smile of her own. “Thanks. Hey, is there any way to wash off some of this muck?” Fox nearly gagged at her own smell as she took a deep sniff. “Not sure what is worse, my current look or the stench.”

Haylen laughed, taking a seat next to her and nearly bumping over some documents that had been piled on the desk behind them. “Don’t worry, you’ll be desensitised to this soon enough. My first weeks were awful, I was constantly feeling self-conscious and taking more showers than I should. Eventually I got chided for wasting water.” She gave the new recruit a friendly pat on the shoulder. “The sooner you accept that everyone stinks, the easier your life will be.”

She leaned against the backrest of her chair, stretching her arms to the sides. “Besides, the first month or so will be the worst in that regard anyway, with all the training and everything. We may not be at our main base, but I doubt that will stop Danse from whipping you in shape.” _Just what I was missing, a grumpy drill sergeant ordering me to do laps around the Wasteland. I wonder if he’d give me extra points for shooting down ghouls mid-run after I attract them with the noise I’ll be making?_ Fox adopted a look of mock-excitement. “Can’t wait!”

They were interrupted by Danse who delivered that evening’s rations. “After you’re done, instruct the Initiate on where to find showers and a change of clothes. Tonight, your priority will be making sure her wounds are looked after; the transmitter can wait until tomorrow morning.” Haylen nodded as thanks for the food and responded with “Yes sir!” for the rest. By the time he turned his back to leave, Fox was already halfway through her meal.

“Whoa, try not to inhale it.” Haylen chuckled at her new squad member’s apparent urgency. “The showers will still be there after you’re done. At _normal_ speed.” As Fox was too busy trying to swallow her way too big mouthful, Haylen kept the conversation up one-sidedly for a bit. “It is rather late, so just grab a quick shower after eating – I’ll show you where they are – and I’ll be ready to deal with your medical needs after that.”

“Thanks.” Fox had finally managed to clear her mouth, though with minor coughing as she had swallowed the food weirdly. One day she would get used to everything tasting just a little bit odd or very strange and nearly inedible. But it was not this day. _Speaking of food…_ “Is it normal for the superior to deliver your meals?”

Haylen’s expression took a turn to a more serious side. This question reminded her of things she would rather not think of. “With so few people left, we all pitch in where we can,” she explained with a sigh. It seemed that Haylen’s chipped fingernails had turned very interesting all of a sudden, judging by how closely she was scrutinising them. “That’s why I’m so glad to have another person around, we are running out of hands for everything that needs to be done.”

Looking around in the ill-lit entrance hall, Fox spotted a mattress that had been placed next to the wall within a clear view of the main doors. Rhys was sitting there with his knees nearly pulled to the chest, arms resting on top of them. In this position, he almost looked like a lost child to Fox. Or perhaps mixed with an angry and frustrated teenager, she corrected herself as she caught the stare Rhys responded with after noticing Fox was observing him.

Discreetly nodding her head in his direction, she mentioned that evidently, not everyone was as glad to have her join as Haylen was. “Oh, Rhys bleeds Brotherhood,” explained Haylen with a hushed tone. “It’s his family, his whole life. And recently he has lost many of his family members.” Haylen’s pained voice told Fox that the Scribe probably cared for Rhys as more than just as a fellow squad member, but she decided not to prod the topic. They barely knew each other and Haylen hadn’t done anything to require gathering possible blackmail material.

The showers in the station were surprisingly decent, considering they were several centuries old and had lived through nuclear annihilation. Wincing from pain as she tried to scrub the grime away, Fox realised with a shock that it was her first actual shower in two hundred years. Thinking about the time she had lost still chilled her to the core – or it could also be the cold water that was cascading down her back. Water pressure had suddenly increased, causing Fox to yelp and hop aside, nearly slipping on the wet tiles. The rest of the shower was spent carefully extending one limb after the other under the stream of water, trying to keep her balance through the shivers.

Her teeth were chattering as she joined Haylen in one of the smaller office rooms that had been repurposed for storing gathered technology and their remaining medical supplies. Having ditched the singed fatigues that had been too big for her anyway, Fox now wore a sleeveless shirt that was once probably white, covering that with a faux-leather jacket with upturned sleeves. She had used the same method on the jeans – after sorting through the clothes that were available at the station, she had settled on a pair of worn jeans that looked almost bearable after rolling the bottoms up quite a bit.

Despite the cold, Fox didn’t complain even once when Haylen ordered her to uncover various parts of her body in order to inspect, clean and bandage all wounds that needed attention. This room was one of the few that still came equipped with a door that could be shut, so Fox saw no need for embarrassment. She wasn’t entirely sure she would even have cared in case there had been no door – after all, it was just a bit of skin. Besides, she was certain that all squad members had seen each other in various state of undress over the months they had spent together. Modesty has little value if you are travelling the Wastelands and have to sleep in the same place.

The sleeping arrangements at the station were simple. One of the side offices from the entrance had been turned into a bedroom of sorts, with one proper bed and a few mattresses. “So, who sleeps where?” asked Fox as she entered the near-bare room with Haylen after getting patched up to the best of the Scribe’s skills. “The boss gets the bed, I presume?”

Haylen smiled, lowering herself on the bed. “Actually, I’m sleeping here.” Fox snorted with slight disdain. “Typical, they can’t let a woman sleep on the floor. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.” Propping herself against the wall with her elbows, the Scribe frowned at the other woman’s reaction. “Not sure what you’re trying to insinuate, but it’s mine _tonight_. Since we only have one proper bed, we take turns. Tried to leave it to Danse as he is the Commanding Officer, but he wouldn’t let us. So we set up a rotation system.”

Sighing, Haylen sent a glance in the direction of the main hall. “Wanted to give my spot up to Rhys as he is the most injured of us, but he insists on staying near the door. He has been sleeping there since we arrived, ready to act as first line of defence in case anyone breaches the station.”

With that, Danse entered, giving the occupants of the room a nod as a greeting. Fox had seen him out of the power armour, but that was outside in the dark and she had been slightly busy with crying. Now inspecting him close-up, she was almost startled by how big he seemed even without the metal casing. In the old days, he could almost have been called a beefcake. It was nothing over-the-top, but he was definitely the most athletic-looking person she had seen in the Wastelands so far. His checkered flannel shirt was open and the T-shirt he wore underneath did not do a very good job at hiding the muscles he had gained through military drills and wearisome missions.

It took away some of his air of authority, seeing him in clothing that would seem more fitting of a lumberjack than a Commanding Officer, but Fox couldn’t deny he still looked like he could snap someone in half with his bare arms. _Or was the phrase “bear arms”? No, definitely not. Though he’d probably make a great bear._ She hid a chuckle, guessing that the others wouldn’t be half as amused if she were asked to explain the source of her merriment. Instead, she crawled into the sleeping roll that Danse had passed to her, saying that its owner would not be missing it. _Morbid, much?_

Everyone else had been zipped up in their sleeping bags and snoring away for a while before Fox managed to drift to sleep. “A good night’s rest” wasn’t something she got often and sharing the room with two strangers did not help the situation.

As she was woken by Haylen shaking her shoulder, Fox wondered whether they always got up in the middle of the night. It was still almost dark outside, the first rays of the sun trying to find their way into the room through the boards that had been hammered over the window.

Haylen and Danse had already been on their morning run. How they dared to go out for exercising in this neighbourhood was a mystery to Fox. To her great dismay, she got informed that as soon as her injuries were healed enough, she would get her own share of that fun. In addition to endurance training, she would receive sets of exercises from Rhys, aimed at improving her strength and flexibility. These were left on hold for now, as Danse deemed her physical condition not fit enough for such activities. She was however fit enough to receive near-double portions of food, feeling slightly like turkey being fattened for Thanksgiving. As annoyed as she was over having someone dictate her meals, she couldn’t deny she needed to eat more; the stress of having a child and then fighting her way through a post-nuclear nightmare had not really improved her appetite or strength.

Despite the more vigorous exercises having been put on hold, the days she was given for recovery were not spent idly. She first assisted Haylen in setting up the transmitter and then acted as an apprentice for cleaning and categorising the technological equipment the squad had already gathered, all the while getting tidbits of Brotherhood history and code. Haylen was tasked with familiarising the new recruit with what was expected from an initiate and everything else she was supposed to know about her new life. As soon as her arm had healed up enough, she got plenty of shooting practise with Danse. Within a week, Righteous Authority started feeling more like an extension of her limb than a separate entity.

“Seriously, every time we get back, I’m afraid the rifle has melded with my hand and I will never be able to remove it,” groaned Fox, slumping the weapon on the table next to Haylen. “I can barely feel my fingers!”

Haylen smirked and pushed the rifle aside as it was covering the old map she had been looking at. “I was already starting to get a bit worried that one of you might have shot the other in frustration and was busy burying them somewhere, judging by how long you were gone this time.”

“Very funny,” muttered Fox, massaging her cramped hand. “I swear he has it in for me. The longer he makes me practise, the worse I get and the more annoyed he starts to look. He at least pretended to be patient on the first days, but now he pretty much tells me flat-out that I suck when I can’t hit the fucking can on the wall.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that, Initiate,” came a dry comment from the door, making Fox hit herself against the table as she twirled to face the Paladin. _Fuck._ “Some people are just a bit more slow in learning than others and need some verbal encouragement.” Fox could have sworn he had smirked, but it was difficult to tell with that beard. He earned a glare from his trainee with the final assessment: “Perhaps we should switch to blank rounds to save ammo.”

“Not needed,” responded Fox with a huff. “Sir.” The word was tacked on just a moment too late. Fox was still struggling with military order and appropriate addressing of her superiors. For that matter, she hated even the word _superiors_. “Perhaps it would make the training more efficient if there was something more real to shoot at. I’d gladly try to hunt down some radstags or something.”

Danse raised an eyebrow, assessing the state of the soldier. She had not been on any missions after ArcJet. Most operations had been dealt with by Danse and Haylen while Fox remained at the station with Rhys, who happened to be a very efficient drill sergeant and had done a good job at transforming the newcomer into someone with actual flesh on her bones. Unfortunately, Rhys himself was not back in form yet – the injuries he sustained during the ghoul attack had ended up being more serious than they had thought at first. Shouting orders did not need much movement though, he could do it from a comfortable seated position while Fox did series of push-ups and stretches.

The Paladin gave a brief nod, deeming Fox fit for duty. “Alright, soldier. Haylen here has managed to pinpoint an area that should have a reflex capacitor. I had planned to retrieve it myself, but since you seem to be itching for fieldwork, you now have the task of securing the asset and bringing it to the station. It is located at Back Street Apparel, Haylen can point it out on your Pip-Boy map. Head out in the morning and report back on your return.”

“Yes sir,” muttered Fox, slightly taken aback. She had not expected to receive a solo mission. Then again, it would get her out of the station. She had started getting a bit stir crazy anyway, being stuck with constant company. _This could be a blessing in disguise._

Within a half-hour of leaving the safety of the police station, Fox had seriously reconsidered the blessing in disguise idea. Heading out alone was scary even in broad daylight, leaving her to move pressed up against walls. This was not the Boston she remembered. She could recognise plenty of houses, but the clash between her memories and the current state of the city was hurting her almost physically. Most buildings were at least partially collapsed and a lot of them had been taken over by nature, with weeds growing out of walls and vines climbing to the remains of roofs. The city looked positively deserted, with only the sounds of distant gunfire acting as a reminder of human presence.

She didn’t even need to check the location on her Pip-Boy map. Back Street Apparel had definitely not been her main source of clothes, but she had visited it on several occasions. _Just across the bridge and- …no. Please no._

The bridge looked almost nothing like that she remembered it to be. All metal components were either gone or rusted nearly to the point where they couldn’t be recognised. The middle of the bridge had ruptured. It took Fox a moment to realise that a ship had crashed into it. Contrary to what she expected, the ship was not abandoned. _Shit_. _There are people on there. And I really don’t want to end up skinned if they happen to be of the non-friendly kind._

With her heart thumping so fast that it threatened to break out of her ribcage, Fox crossed the bridge at a snail’s pace, crawling from one cover to another. Getting over the ruptured centre was the most difficult part as there was temporarily nothing to hide behind. Holding her breath as she jumped across the gap, Fox realised that this was probably the most scared she had ever been. She had done plenty of sneaking over the years, but usually the worst she could expect in case of failure was a lot of shouting and then losing her free time privileges or going to bed hungry. With the exception of a few select happenings since leaving the Vault, she had never actually feared for her life.

Luck seemed to be on her side this time. She landed with a soft thump, rolled out of sight and left the bridge without being noticed by the inhabitants of the ship. Having retreated a bit further, she sat down with her back leaning against an old brick wall and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the hammering of her heart.

_You can do this._ This was only the first mission. She had to prove that she was ready to take on a bigger role. She couldn’t ask for favours unless she was being useful to the Brotherhood. Getting shot into pieces on her first solo assignment would definitely be categorised as _not_ useful at all. Poor Haylen had been tasked with patching her up a few times too many by then and Fox did not intend to give her any extra work.

She had not expected to make her first human kills that day. Sure, she had hunted the mutated animals of the Commonwealth and taken down feral ghouls and synths, but shooting an actual human being and knowing you are responsible for one less person in the world was something different. _You had no other choice. They saw you already and they had turrets. They would have gunned you down without hesitation._ Fox tried to convince herself that she had done the right thing, but it was very difficult to do with the faces of the dead raiders floating around in her mind.

The rest of the mission after clearing the outside defences was a blur. She could recall disarming some traps that could have potentially killed her if she hadn’t noticed them at the right moment, holding her breath as she sneaked past a hallway that was being patrolled by a lazy raider, but she was not sure how or where exactly had she found the reflex capacitor or how she had managed to make her way back to the Brotherhood base.

Rhys was the first one to notice her entering the station, leaving a wet trail where she stepped. “Hey, did you go for a swim? Decided showers weren’t enough?” The mockery in his voice died rather rapidly as Fox’s blank stare alerted the Knight to something being wrong. “Earth to Initiate Quinn! You in there?” Fox made an effort to smile, failing miserably. As she started to wobble on her legs, Rhys grabbed her shoulders and guided her to the nearest chair. “Sit. I’ll get you some water.”

Landing on the chair a bit harder than planned, Fox started to regain some sense of her surroundings. She was back at their base. She had made it. Everything felt horribly wrong though. Her body seemed to have made it, but she was not entirely sure about her mind. Her thoughts remained at Back Street Apparel, with images of the raiders twirling around in her head until she felt dizzy.

“Drink,” ordered Rhys, grabbing another chair to join the shell-shocked Initiate. “You look like shit, what the hell happened?” Fox thought numbly that she must look _really_ bad if even Rhys did not feel like giving her grief for returning so late. She gripped the glass so hard that it was a miracle it didn’t shatter in her hand.

“Did the mission fail?” Rhys tried prodding her to speak once more as the previous attempts had clearly not had the desired effect. Slowly shaking her head, Fox grabbed her backpack and pulled out the piece of technology she had been ordered to retrieve. “I got it. But there were raiders. I had no choice, I had to kill some of them.”

Rhys seemed puzzled for a moment, wondering why on earth would freeing the Commonwealth of some scum affect her so much. Then it hit him and he stared at Fox with slightly widened eyes. “Wait, don’t tell me this was your first kill. Shit, Quinn. It was, wasn’t it?” Fox could only nod, tears now brimming in her eyes.

Rhys gave her a few awkward pats on the shoulder. “It’s okay. It will feel like shit for a while, but it will pass. If you want me to leave you alone, just say. Or I can also stay.” To her own surprise, Fox didn’t want him to leave. Sure, Rhys and she had not been seeing eye to eye on most matters, but having someone who understood what she was going through was comforting. Also, she had never heard Rhys swear so much. In its own little way, that also helped.

“So, what was your first time?” Fox managed to keep her voice from shaking too badly, much to her surprise. She just wanted to hear someone talk, to have someone confirm that this was not going to be the worst day of her life and things would go on no matter whether she was essentially a murderer or not. Rhys was not inclined to give an answer though. Looking the Initiate up and down, he ordered her to go and get a dry change of clothes first.

“I’ll be right out here while you change,” he promised, practically lifting her up by the shoulders to get her off the chair. When Fox didn’t seem overly willing to get a move on, Rhys marched her to the bedroom himself and pointed at her stack of back-up outfits. “Clothes. Now, Initiate. With this combination of shock and wet clothes, you’ll be out of action for a _long_ time if you don’t start moving.” His voice was assertive, yet not devoid of kindness.

By the time Fox had finished peeling off her clammy outfit and gotten dressed in something considerably more dry and warm, Rhys had put together a small meal. “I know you probably won’t want to eat much, but I made you something.” He placed the bowl next to the mattress Fox was curled up on. “So, you still want to hear the story? Or you’d rather be alone and perhaps get some sleep?”

Fox pointed at the mattress near her own, indicating Rhys to take a seat. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not be alone right now. I just need to know that things will get better. And that this is not the end of me as a person.” Rhys stared at the opposite wall, delaying his answer for a while.

“It _is_ the end of you as a person though,” he finally said. “You will never be the same Quinn you were before today. But the new person you are will be stronger. It’s not like you enjoyed the killing, it will always be an unpleasant thing to do. But you have to bear in mind that it was a kill or be killed situation. In the Wastelands, you will have a lot of those situations. So you have keep on reminding yourself why you’re doing this.”

This was the longest she had ever heard him speak. Usually he didn’t go much further from issuing orders and shouting if things were not how they were supposed to be. Seemed that somewhere along the way, she had managed to pass the Trial of Rhys, having the Knight accept her as a member of the Brotherhood instead of an opportunistic outsider. Fox wasn’t sure though whether this particular conversation was making her feel any better.

“The thing is, I am not even sure why am I doing this right now.” Feeling a wave of shivers coming on, she zipped her sleeping bag open and pulled it around her, huddling for warmth. “I do want to make the Commonwealth a better place, but somehow I had not considered that at some point I would be pointing my gun at _people_ instead of mutated abominations.”

Rhys leaned against the wall, adopting his usual position of arms resting on propped up knees. “Listen Quinn, you can take it as an investment for the future. Raiders are a bunch of good-for-nothing thieves who are not above killing to take what they want. They go around terrorising nearby farmers, demanding payment in return for leaving their houses standing and children alive. They live on looting from others instead of creating something themselves. If you had left them alive, they would probably have gone on to kill dozens of innocent civilians. So in the end, your job is to keep the balance positive by helping to keep those alive who cannot stand up for themselves. And yes, sometimes that requires pulling the trigger at another human.”

That did make sense. In any case, hearing that explanation helped a lot more than being told that she would never be herself again. It would still take some more soul-searching to create her own sense of purpose for such situations, but it was a start. Fox pulled the edges of the sleeping bag closer around her shivering form. “You didn’t tell me about your own first kill though,” she reminded Rhys of the reason they were even sitting there.

The Knight looked uncomfortable for a moment and then sighed. “Fair enough, I did promise. It was back when I was an Initiate as well. I was so proud to finally be going on missions. We had been cleaning the Capital Wasteland of an onslaught of super mutants; at some point they had turned more insolent and brutal than ever. So we had several clear-out missions to secure areas that were too close to our base or bigger human settlements.”

Rhys’ face adopted the stone cold mask Fox had already seen on several occasions, though it couldn’t properly hide how painful this memory must have been to drag up. “Rhys, you don’t have to continue.” Fox felt almost ashamed for pushing him to this in her selfish need to hear someone else’s experience. Rhys merely shrugged. “I already started, might as well finish.”

He took a deep breath to clear his head before continuing. “We got ambushed on one of the missions. No super mutants survived, but we had some losses. My commanding officer had gotten so badly injured that he was screaming from pain, pleading me to put him out of his misery. I refused at first, but then he gave me an order as my CO. I did my duty as a soldier and put a bullet between his eyes.”

Fox forgot to shut her mouth, staring at him. Finally, she swallowed with her throat dry and whispered in a wheeze: “You had to kill your Commanding Officer? Fuck.” They both sat in silence for a while, Rhys’ eyes locked on something in the distance and Fox fiddling with the edge of her mattress, at a loss for words.

Hearing some noise from the main hall, Rhys pushed himself up from the floor. “Don’t think I’ll be going easier on you now because we shared a chat,” he warned Fox, dusting off his trousers. “You’re still an Initiate with a lot to learn.” She nodded with a lump in her throat. Before he left the room, she cleared her voice and stopped him. “Hey, Rhys!” He turned to her with a frown. “Yes, Initiate?” Fox managed a brief smile for her fellow soldier. “Thank you for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The members of Recon Squad Gladius do not get a lot of character development in the game, with the sole exception of Danse (whose story is still not properly finished in my opinion). I find Haylen and Rhys to be rather interesting starting points for characters, so I plan to give them more attention than they get in Fallout 4.
> 
> Another thing I miss in the game is a gradual change of the player character. Especially when you have a female protagonist (who didn't have a military background), there should be more of a shock from being exposed to the horrors of the Wasteland. Sure, the pre-war life of my particular character wasn't all "sunshine, lollipops and rainbows" either, but as a civilian she had no close contact with violent deaths. So before launching into bigger missions, I wanted to dedicate some time to developing the interactions between squad members and Fox's journey to being a soldier.


	4. Tread Carefully

Paladin Danse scanned the surroundings, doing his usual perimeter check. The neighbourhood was pleasantly quiet. Noise in this corner of the Boston Wastelands usually meant trouble, but in the past week they had managed to avoid any of that, at least where their base area was concerned. Of course, they still had plenty of unpleasant encounters on smaller missions to clear out the neighbouring areas and retrieve bits and pieces of working technology, but at least they had not endured another assault on the base itself.

During downtime, they did their best to upgrade the defences of Cambridge Police Station, sort and categorise all found equipment and make the base a more liveable place. Danse had been hoping to be back on the Prydwen by now, but the main base had been slow to react. They did finally get a response from the headquarters, emphasising the importance of the squad's findings and stating that the Brotherhood would need to increase their military presence in the area. Unfortunately, that had not meant sending some reinforcements right away. They were assured that they would be getting a bigger amount of troops sent from the Capital Wasteland, but gathering and preparing a large army for such a move was time-consuming. In the meanwhile, that left Recon Squad Gladius without external help.

For Danse, this delay meant that getting his small squad to work efficiently was of utmost importance, unless he wished to lose more of his servicemen. The newest recruit was still a constant source of frustration. Danse was all for gradual training of new troops, letting them learn the ropes as they go. Regrettably, this wasn't really an option when they were already on an assignment. Out here, those who didn't learn fast would not be living for long. And now Danse was stuck with a liability on his team.

He had recruited Quinn mostly for the spark she had, as having the right spirit was often what could make or break a soldier. _And yes, partially because there really were no better options around._ Over the weeks, Initiate Quinn had bonded with Haylen over their mutual love of tinkering and fixing everything – thanks to those two they now had a line of turrets set up around their perimeter, meaning they could sleep more easily at night and didn't have to worry about having a repeat of the events that led them to meeting Quinn in the first place.

Things had not gone that easily between Knight Rhys and the new recruit. Danse had been forced to have several talks with both parties, explaining the necessity of being at least civil to each other. Rhys had to be mostly admonished for overworking the Initiate, who in return got several reprimands over aggravating Rhys on purpose.

But the fire he had seen in her in the beginning seemed to be going out. After the initial weeks of constant (if slow) improvement, Quinn had become detached, showing little interest in any assignments or even conversations. Danse suspected it could have been connected to the Back Street Apparel mission, but he never managed to get her to talk to him about it besides stating that she had completed the task. Then again, she had plenty of other reasons to not look cheerful. Danse had not forgotten the big secret Quinn had shared with him on the first evening. How she managed to keep on going in a world where everything she had known was destroyed was beyond his comprehension.

Danse sighed, returning to the police station. At least he had one thing to be grateful for – it had been a week since he last had needed to break up an argument between Rhys and Quinn. The two still preferred not to be teamed together for a mission, but at least they didn't intentionally taunt each other beyond acceptable squad banter.

He sat down at the terminal to pore over the log entries left by the previous squad that had been send to the Commonwealth. Locating Recon Squad Artemis was not the main objective of his expedition, but Danse wanted to find out what could have happened to make Paladin Brandis lose contact with the Brotherhood. Taking into consideration that the previous squad had been lost for years, there was a big chance none of them were alive by now. _At least we owe it to them to find out what happened and honour their sacrifice. Besides, we still have time until reinforcements arrive. This is the perfect moment to clear out older errands._

As he had not yet had a chance to personally see Initiate Quinn handling a field assignment (the one in ArcJet where she was still a civilian didn't really count), Danse decided to bring the newest squad member along for this mission. He found her sitting in one of the offices that had been repurposed as their armoury, cleaning Righteous Authority. It was still strange for Danse to see someone else handling his rifle, but at least Quinn was taking good care of it, even if she wasn't able to use it as well as he had hoped.

She greeted him with a simple "Paladin Danse." and a nod before returning to work. _Odd, I'm almost missing her casual quips. In a way, she is turning into the soldier I wished to see on the first day. Unfortunate that she seems to have lost a part of her temper along the way._

"Ready for another mission, soldier?" Danse assumed a similar tone to what Quinn had used, keeping the conversation formal. Looking entirely disinterested, she placed the laser rifle on the desk to look up at her CO. "Ready, sir. When do you want me to head out?"

" _We_ are heading out tomorrow at sunrise. Skip the morning run and grab breakfast instead, we will get plenty of exercise on the way." Quinn nodded and responded with a curt "Yes, sir." Danse was almost ready to turn and leave the soldier to her thoughts when she requested to know what would the mission be.

"I've told you about Recon Team Artemis that arrived to the Commonwealth three years ago. We are to find information about their whereabouts and investigate their disappearance." This seemed to catch her interest, though it didn't seem to be the positive kind.

"So we are going on a corpse-hunt?" she asked with a scowl. "Thought the Brotherhood was more occupied with organising ghoul shooting ranges." For a moment, Danse was struggling with holding back his tongue. Sending Quinn out with Rhys to clear the neighbouring areas from ferals had clearly been a mistake. She had not talked to anyone for a whole day after returning, leaving Danse to interrogate Rhys about what the hell had happened. Judging by the Knight's report, Quinn had been all but useless, getting spooked out the moment some ghouls had gotten closer and leaving Rhys to handle everything alone while protecting the soldier that should have been his partner on the mission.

"We are going to survey the area they were headed to according to their last log entry." Danse decided to avoid the touchy subject of Quinn's field performance until he had witnessed it first-hand. "If we come across their remains, so be it. But they were Brotherhood soldiers and they deserve to be remembered. If luck is on our side, we may still find some of them alive."

Danse himself did not have much hope for that outcome, but he felt like keeping a positive attitude would be needed for that mission, with the normally wordy recruit having turned into a polar opposite of herself. _At the very least I will find out what has happened to make her this way and whether that poses a threat to the goals of the Brotherhood._

The beginning of the mission went as planned. They left at sunrise, having packed enough ammo and food for several days as the first location Danse had planned to scout out was at least a day's walk away. Thinking back at their retrieval mission several weeks ago, at least some things had changed for the better. While her shooting skills were still not at a level where he could call them _good_ , she was now hitting her targets almost as often as she missed. As they were still cut off from the supplies of the headquarters, Quinn could not be issued a proper Brotherhood uniform, but at least they had managed to find her a fitting set of army fatigues and a helmet that didn't completely dwarf her head. With a bit of help from Haylen, Quinn had even managed to adjust some armour pieces to her size. She could almost pass for an actual soldier in this attire.

For a few hours, they walked in silence. Danse had to keep reminding himself to slow down for the benefit of his companion's considerably shorter legs. Perhaps things would be better once she got her own personal suit of power armour, but for now he had to take it into account that their physical capabilities were a world apart.

By the time they reached Tucker Memorial Bridge, the sun was high in the sky. It was their luck that they had not come across the bridge earlier when the litter strewn across it had still been covered in a shroud of shadows. The overpass was apparently a part of someone's line of defences, judging by the amount of mines that had been set up. To make matters worse, there were several gas cylinders placed in strategic locations, ensuring that whoever took a wrong step on this road would never take another one. This was definitely not a location for heavy-footed soldiers, which turned crossing the bridge into a problematic situation for Danse. He considered wading through the waters instead, but they looked too deep for his suit to handle. Even if he had taken the power suit helmet with him, the plan would not have worked as his visor was still cracked due to Quinn's recklessness in ArcJet systems.

"So basically, at this moment, you are useless," commented Quinn after being briefed on the situation. Danse scowled and she quickly added "sir" to her sentence, as if that fixed everything. At least she was talking, so that was already an improvement. Her next words, however, made him reconsider that assessment.

"I guess I'm going in then." She looked so casual when saying that, like she had navigated a minefield many times in her life. _Which could actually be true – you still know practically nothing about her background._ Or another, much more likely and terrifying option meant that she simply did not care.

"And do what, get both of us blown up?" In a way, Danse was glad not to be wearing his helmet. He had already anticipated the increased need for stare-downs over the next few days. "I have no reason to believe you have had explosives training and detonating one of the mines from the distance would mean destroying the entire bridge as I highly doubt it is structurally sound enough for such endeavours."

"I was more thinking of trying to find a safe way across that doesn't involve stepping on any mines," suggested Quinn, staring at the bridge with her eyes slightly squinted from concentration. "Whoever placed these, they probably wanted to make sure they could still cross the bridge without turning into a bloody mess."

_That is actually not a bad hypothesis._ Having assessed the situation and come to the conclusion that this was their best bet, he opened his power armour and stepped out. "What, leaving this here?" asked Quinn with genuine confusion. Upon realising Danse's intention, her expression turned to angry in a split second.

"No fucking way. Sir." She looked as if she was ready to physically push Danse back if he took another step towards the bridge. "With all due respect, that is a stupid idea. Sir." Danse only quirked his eyebrow, looking down at the now furious soldier who kept ranting. "If I get blown up, that's no biggie. You'll just return to the squad and do this mission at a later time when you have proper reinforcements. If _you_ get blown up, you're abandoning your squad and leaving them with a useless rookie. Heck, they'll probably have to send another recon team to look for the remains for both of us, since I'd probably get torn apart by some abominations on my way back."

"Are you done now?" asked Danse, his voice level. Quinn didn't respond, only glared at him with her jaw stubbornly squared. She was still standing between the Paladin and the bridge, as if she truly believed she would be able to hold him back if he wanted to get past her. "I am not going to knowingly endanger someone under my command." He gave her a pointed glance and added: "Especially not someone whose only experience with explosives is nearly getting her head blown off."

He stepped to his power armour and indicated the opening valve. "If anything happens to me, turn this valve to open the suit. The controls are pretty straightforward; I believe you should be able to use this without issues. Your orders, should this go wrong, are to return to the rest of the squad and wait for reinforcements."

"I respectfully disagree," pressed Quinn out through clenched teeth. _Why is she so adamant to go herself? I thought her goal was to find her missing husband, not to die in the Wasteland._

"Your behaviour has little to do with respect," Danse cut through Quinn's attempt to launch into another tirade. "What you are doing can get you charged with disorderly conduct if you do not step out of the way _right now_."

Danse could see Quinn struggling with barely contained rage, but she stepped aside. "If you see anyone approaching, _do not shoot_ ," stressed Danse before moving towards the bridge. "Even with normal bullets, you may end up setting something on fire, causing everything to blow up. With laser weapons, the chance is even higher."

It had been a while since the last time he was the one disarming the bombs. Worwick had been their demolition expert, so Danse had no reason to take that task with him around. Between himself and Quinn though, it was clear Danse was the better choice for this assignment. Careful to keep his footsteps light and steady, he approached the first mine. _Let's see if I still remember this. If not, they may as well send me back to the Prydwen in an envelope._

To his great relief, everything went without a hitch. Having cleared the way, he waited until Quinn had safely made it to the other side. Feeling confident in his clearing capabilities, he wasn't even overly careful as he crossed the bridge himself in the power armour, triggering a rogue mine that had been hidden under some rubble. Hearing the familiar beeping, he launched into a sprint, shouting for Quinn to move further away. Thankfully, neither of them got injured, which was more than they could say for the bridge.

"Guess we'll be finding another way back," noted Quinn as the construction behind them collapsed in a magnificent explosion. "Also, if there was anyone around this area, they will now be heading here for sure."

Not wanting to be faced with whoever had laced this bridge with such a high amount of explosives and gas canisters, Danse decided to leave his stern talk about respect and questioning your commanding officer's orders for a later time. _That could wait until we set camp for the night. Wouldn't want to attract anyone's attention out here in the open._

As they got closer to the area marked down on Quinn's Pip-Boy, they came across a super mutant camp. Since a stealth approach was out of question, Danse ordered her to take cover and only lean out to shoot when she was absolutely certain she could do that without direct danger. He was not overly concerned about his own safety – he had taken down several super mutants on his own before and with the three he could count from their position, it should be child's play in his power armour.

The fire exchange wasn't long, but Danse was severely struggling with remaining focused. It felt almost as if he was hallucinating, with faint images of deceased soldiers appearing and then fading from the battlefield. He had to constantly remind himself to control the rising rage – not only did he need to concentrate on the nearing mutants, but there was also the extra task of observing Quinn's actions. After all, that was the main reason he had brought the new recruit along for the mission.

Surprisingly, Quinn didn't even do that badly. She mostly leaned out of cover at the right moments, creating only one situation where she nearly got shot in the face. She didn't take any unnecessary risks or mad sprints across the field, nor did she have the reaction Rhys has reported from their ghoul mission. Of course, she would not have made it without Danse's presence as her hitting ratio was nowhere high enough to eliminate the mutants on her own before they would have reached her cover and ripped her apart. But the situation was far from the disaster Danse had expected.

They took a break to catch their breath before moving on. In Danse's case, it was mostly needed to calm down and clear his head. Ever since he had been forced to put Cutler down, he had not been able to keep a cool head when encountering super mutants. Evidently, things had only turned for the worse after the incident at Fort Strong. _I have to get this under control before I start endangering my squad. This is not acceptable._

Quinn was sitting on the ground, reclining against the piece of brick wall she had been using as cover. Danse had no idea what was going on in her head, but she seemed to have her own demons to battle, judging by the air of distress that was lacing her entire being.

Danse gave her a bit more time to recover before moving towards their target. "Ready to keep going?" Quinn gave a curt bow as a response, but stopped halfway as she was getting up, leaning over the wall piece to look at the killed mutants. "What exactly are these?" Her eyebrows were slightly scrunched as she scrutinised the green mess of limbs that was left of their adversaries. "I mean, Rhys has mentioned them, but I didn't want to ask him."

"Super mutants?" Danse took a slow breath to regain control of his emotions. "They are the scum of the earth. Man-made abominations, experimentation gone wrong." He clenched his fists, looking at the remains with open disgust. "There are no female super mutants, so the only way for them to increase their numbers is to forcefully infect new people with FEV – Forced Evolutionary Virus."

Quinn faltered, grabbing the wall for support. "Infect _people_?" she repeated with a dumbfounded expression, horror creeping in as she realised what the origin of these abominations was. "They used to be humans?"

"They are a cancerous symptom of technology gone wrong, too much power in the wrong hands." Danse tore his glance away from the remains of the abominations, ready to get as far as possible from that area. "It is suspected that the Institute is responsible for at least a part of the super mutant activity in the Commonwealth, conducting sick experiments on kidnapped humans and then setting them free to wreak havoc among people. Another good reason to take out that nest of evil."

Quinn remained quiet for the next hour, save for commenting on the direction they should take according to her Pip-Boy. Having that mini-terminal around was really handy, especially once it picked up a distress signal that could only belong to a Brotherhood soldier.

The sight that unveiled before their eyes once they reached the source of the signal was not what Danse had been hoping for. There, in the middle of a destroyed building, was Knight Varham. His body was propped up against an upturned desk, his weapon fallen on the floor next to him after he had succumbed to the unknown attackers that had taken him out with at least three other Brotherhood soldiers, judging by the pieces of other power armour suits scattered around the remains of the building.

"That's half of the squad accounted for." The air felt heavy around Danse as he quietly paid his respects to the fallen. _Ad victoriam, brothers. May steel forever be with you._ "Look around, perhaps there are some clues to what attacked them or where the rest of the squad could be," he ordered Quinn after the moment of silence. After a quick search, they came across a holotape. Once again, Danse was grateful to have the Pip-Boy at their disposal – this meant they did not have to go all the way back to the station, only to find out that the remaining members of the squad had retreated to National Guard training yard. According to Quinn's map, that wasn't far from their current location.

They set out for their next target, not wanting to stay near this stench of death any longer than necessary. Nightfall caught them on the road earlier than Danse had expected, forcing the two to look for the nearest shelter. Fearing a new surprise in the form of landmines, Danse was definitely not eager to travel in the dark in these areas.

Once more, luck was on their side. The campsite they almost literally stumbled upon looked like it had been abandoned for a while, but it had the essentials – a few tents that came complete with sleeping bags, a nicely arranged stone circle for a proper campfire and even some pots that didn't look overly dirty thanks to being stored under a blanket. After a quick verification that the site was definitely deserted and there were no surprises waiting in the tents, Danse set down his backpack. "Perfect. We will set up camp here for tonight and continue for the training yard at sunrise."

"I guess we could even start a fire to have a warm dinner," suggested Quinn, landing her equipment next to his bag. The way she was shivering, cooking food was definitely not the only reason she made that proposition. From a tactical standpoint, lighting a fire was a bad idea as it could give away their location to any nearby hostiles. On the other hand, they were two people with good laser rifles and a full set of power armour.

"Sounds like a good plan," agreed Danse after a brief discussion with himself. "If you find some firewood, I will clean the pots and set the food ready."

They soon discovered a possible reason for the campsite to be abandoned – as Quinn was returning with an armful of branches, there was a rumble in the ground underneath them and a mole rat burst out a mere metre away from her feet. Startled, she fell over and scrambled for the rifle strapped to her back. Danse got there first, stepping the creature to death with his steel boot. The first mole rat was joined by others, turning the area around them into a squeaking and bloody mess.

After the last rat fell, there was a moment where both soldiers looked at each other in silence before Quinn started laughing. "Well, I guess that solves our dinner problems and the mystery of missing campers in one go." She kneeled down to inspect the rat bodies around her, picking out a few that had not been overly burned by the lasers or squashed by power armour. Holding them up, she let out a resigned sigh. "Never mind, I just remembered I'd have no idea what to do with them. I've shot some before, but I've never had to be the one preparing them for a meal."

In the meanwhile, Danse had exited his power armour and pulled out a knife from his backpack. Having sat down near the empty fire pit, he reached out his hand for the rats. "Hand them over and get busy with making the fire. Assuming you know how to start one." Quirking an eyebrow in surprise, Quinn passed the mole rats to the Paladin and made herself busy with arranging the branches she had gathered for the fire.

It took her a few tries to set up the branches and get a proper flame going. By that time, Danse had already skinned the first mole rat and started on the next one. "Didn't know you had cooking skills other than warming up tinned food," said Quinn as she rolled a log next to him so she could take a seat close to the fire. Danse gave a low chuckle, increasing the already high amount of bewilderment on her face. "There's a lot you don't know."

Quinn looked like she wanted to punch his arm in jest, but pulled her fist back before reaching the target. "For some reason it feels like you're mocking me."

Danse threw some rat chunks in the pot he had cleaned and reached for the next creature, cocking his eyebrow at Quinn's response. "Mocking you? Should I?"

She shrugged and reached her hands closer to the growing flames to warm them. "Well, I don't know. Judging by my poor performance as a soldier, you should have more than enough reason to mock me. I was expecting something along the lines of "there's plenty you don't know, like how to shoot straight or how to act as a proper soldier who doesn't curse at her superiors"."

"Get a can of beans and one of stew," instructed Danse, pointing a bloody finger in the direction of his backpack. "And yes, on the topic of cursing at your CO, I feel like we should have a chat." The tone of their conversation was more casual than Danse was used to when it concerned people under his command, but with Quinn, it came naturally. _To be honest, I'm glad she sounds more like herself again. Her behaviour in the past week has been odd._

Quinn had the decency to look a bit sheepish as she resumed her log seat, having retrieved the requested cans. _At least she understands that her behaviour has not been appropriate. That's a start._ "The can opener is right next to you. Get them opened up and empty everything into the pot," instructed Danse, adding some more pieces of meat in the aforementioned pot.

He let her wait for the promised chat a bit longer, finishing preparing the mole rats for dinner and cleaning his bloodied hands the best he could before setting the now nearly filled pot on some bigger stones that rose above the burning branches. Satisfied with the dinner preparations, he took a seat on the other side of the log Quinn was already using as a bench. With the fire merrily crackling away and casting warm shadows around them, the scene could almost have been of two normal campers, had the metallic gleam of Danse's power armour next to one of the tents not ruined the illusion.

Quinn was sitting with her arms wrapped around the waist, staring at the campfire. The humour that had appeared in her face after they had defeated the mole rats was now replaced by lines of worry on her forehead. "So, Initiate," Danse broke the silence, forcing Quinn to turn her attention to the Paladin. "Care to explain the show you put on at the bridge?"

She averted her glance, fiddling with the edge of her fatigue jacket. "I stand by what I said, sir," she finally said, jutting her chin out in defiance. "The idea was stupid and you should have let me go look for a safe passage. Sir."

Danse shook his head slowly, once more feeling his annoyance with the Initiate build up. She was shutting him out again, hiding behind mock politeness while doling out insults. He decided to change tactics. "You can stop with the "sirs" for now and speak freely. This conversation is off the record." He leaned slightly forward to read her expression better. Failing to keep the frustration from his voice, he continued: "What on earth possessed you, Quinn? It's almost like you want to die, the way you insist on putting yourself in such situations and disobeying orders."

Once more, they sat in silence. Danse refused to be the first to talk this time. He knew this was not comfortable to either of them and Quinn would start explaining herself at some point, if he only managed to wait it out. The only noises came from distant animals and the food bubbling on the fire as the minutes stretched along.

He had been correct. It took some time, but in the end, the tense air forced her to open her mouth for an answer. "What do you want me to say, Danse?" When she turned to face him, there were streaks of tears on her dusty face. "That I have no idea what is my place in this world? That after being frozen for 200 years, I have no idea whether he is even alive anymore? Hell, they could have taken him a week after the bombs fell and I wouldn't know any better because they left me there. He could have died of old age or a rabid radstag assault, for all I know."

She used a sleeve to wipe her face, smudging it with dirt that got caught on the tear trails. "So tell me, what is the purpose of all this? There is close to no chance of ever finding him, should he even be alive. I have nothing to live for."

Danse sighed, unsure what to answer or how to react to the desperation in her eyes. This was not a part of his expertise; the training for a Brotherhood soldier had not covered the basics of consoling people who have been cryogenically frozen for centuries and possibly lost their spouse on top of that.

"You can't lose hope." Unable to feel anger at her misconduct when seeing her broken down like this, his voice was more gentle than she had heard before. "Sure, the Commonwealth is big and there are a lot of places where he could be. But as long as you don't have any proof for the opposite, there is still a chance to find him. And the chance will only get higher once the rest of the Brotherhood arrives. We have resources and contacts, so if there's anyone who knows about the whereabouts of your husband, we will find him."

She looked confused and almost in pain after his last sentence. Danse frowned, unsure what he had done to increase the distress of the woman. "Did I say something wrong?" he inquired as Quinn wiped away a new tear that had escaped.

"I… I'd rather not discuss that," she whispered with a coarse voice. As a claim for a bit of privacy, she turned her face away to dry the tears and clear her throat. "I'm sorry. I'm grateful for what you're trying to do, really. But we are coming to a topic I really can't talk about, so I'd be glad if you could leave it."

"I did promise you could have your secrets as long as they don't interfere with the goals of the Brotherhood, so I will trust you on keeping the promise on your side as well." Danse couldn't help but feel that something was very off, but he was a man of his word. "You have to realise though that these issues cannot start affecting our missions. I can understand that sometimes emotions run high and influence the decisions people make, but the kind of display that I saw today is not allowed to repeat. Disrespect my orders again and I will not be that patient anymore."

"Understood," responded Quinn, her voice now back to almost normal levels as she tried to hide her sadness. By the time dinner was ready, she was acting like nothing had happened at all, making small quips and doing her best to keep the conversation light.

"So, this is surprisingly good," she said with approval after trying a spoonful of the thick stew that Danse had poured in her bowl. "Would have never pegged you as the squad cook, but this doesn't even taste much like a dead rat."

"Not sure if this was meant as a compliment or as an insult," mentioned Danse between his own spoonfuls.

Quinn laughed at that and waved her spoon in his direction. "See, this is exactly my problem with you as well. Every time you comment on my combat skills, I'm not sure whether I should take offence or feel flattered." A stray splash of stew from her spoon hit Danse square on his forehead, but he decided to just wipe it away discreetly instead of admonishing her. Even this fake display of happiness was better than being stuck with a crying Initiate.

"Judging by how often Haylen has to patch you up, I'm not sure you want to know the answer," responded Danse with a slight smile. Quinn's eyes darted to her leg, unintentionally drawing his attention in that direction as well. "And when exactly were you going to tell me about that one?" enquired Danse, noticing the torn trouser leg with now dried blood. "Or did you think that it would heal on its own if you ignored it?"

Quinn reacquired the stubborn look she had sported a few times too many that day. "I… I don't like looking at bite wounds," she confessed reluctantly, hiding the wounded leg with her free hand. "Besides, it's nothing. Honestly, it's only a scratch."

Danse shook his head, not even bothering to hold his annoyed sigh back anymore. "That's what they all say before rat fever kicks in. Finish your dinner, Quinn. If looking at bites bothers you this much, I'll deal with it myself later. But you can't just leave these things and hope that infection won't kick in. It is irresponsible, especially in the field."

After a satisfying warm dinner, they cleaned their utensils to the best of their capabilities, considering there was no flowing water available. "So, good night," mumbled Quinn, hastily making for the tent she had chosen for herself. Danse gave a pronounced cough and pointed at the log they had been using as a bench. "Sit. Now." He took petty pleasure in the Initiate's protests as she grudgingly sat down and extended her leg for Danse to inspect.

It wasn't as bad as he had feared, just a minor bite. Nevertheless, it had to be cleaned properly to prevent the nasty inflammation that mole rats could bring along. He squatted next to her, cleaning the wound as gently as he could while Quinn did her best to look in the opposite direction. "Jumping on top of a damn landmine – fine," murmured Danse with slight amusement. "Running in the middle of a synth laser hustle – fine." He put a small bandage on the wound to keep it clean. "Dealing with a small mole rat bite – ignore and twist your head all the way behind your back so you don't have to look at it. So that's your biggest Wasteland fear, huh?"

"Oh, the Tin Man can make jokes now," grumbled Quinn with slight humiliation in her voice, but even she saw the humour in the situation. She gave her superior a good-natured glare. "Don't think you can mock me with this forever now or I will find something to use against you."

To his own surprise, Danse laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it. Alright, get to sleep. We head out-"

"At sunrise." Quinn finished the sentence for him, imitating his voice. "Good night, Danse." In the dying light of their campfire, she retreated to her tent. Since they both desperately needed the sleep, Danse decided to skip doing watch shifts – instead, he removed the fusion core from his suit so nobody could walk off with it and reminded Quinn that they both should keep their weapons within reach. He fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the day's stress.

He must have been sleeping for a few hours when he jolted up in his sleeping bag, covered in cold sweat. Having instinctively grabbed his rifle, he breathed heavily, trying to calm down the panicked throbbing of his heart. Desperately attempting to leave the visions from his dreams behind, he opened the tent flap, trying to replace the nightmare with any other image. He was greeted by a clear night sky, with countless stars staring down at the campsite. It felt so cold and lonely, like he was the last remaining human on earth.

A strange noise caught Danse's attention, causing him to grasp the laser rifle in a stronger grip and cautiously leave the tent. A few tense moments later he realised the sound came from the open tent where the Initiate was clearly not sleeping.

"Quinn, is that your teeth chattering?" asked Danse in a flat voice, embarrassed for the scare he had experienced. She turned around in her sleeping bag, face pale and teeth uncontrollably clattering together. "N-no, I'm p-p-positively c-cosy in here." _Damn, does she ever give straight answers?_

Danse sighed, realising he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep for a long while. "Did you not pack anything extra?" Quinn responded by lifting her arm out of the sleeping bag. She was wearing another jacket on top of her fatigues, but that did not seem to help much.

"You won't get any sleep like this." He had even left her the tent with the only mattress, hoping it would provide her with enough insulation from the ground to sleep without problems. _I guess her Vault experience has left its mark in yet another way._ Danse walked to the other tent, grabbed all his belongings and returned to where Quinn was still shivering. "Move over."

Quinn didn't even complain or make any ridiculous jokes as Danse stored his backpack at the back of the tent and laid out his sleeping bag on the free half of the mattress. "You have never camped, have you?" The question was rhetorical as he already knew the answer. "Lesson number one – if there is a way to shut the tent, _do it_. You were letting all the warm air out. You are the only heat source in the tent, do not let it go to waste."

He set his rifle down next to the mattress and scooted over to shut the tent flap with quick experienced moves. "Second," he continued, "Wearing too many clothes does not make you warmer; packing the sleeping bag too full can have the opposite effect as you leave no air in there to warm."

"I c-can't feel my l-l-legs," complained Quinn, still violently shivering. Danse's concerned look was invisible to her in the dark of the tent.

"I swear, if you got infected with rat fever in your stubbornness to get that wound looked at…" _Damnit, what else can I do?_ There was one possibility, but Danse was reluctant to suggest that to someone under his command. With no better ideas coming up, he sighed before grudgingly sharing his thoughts with Quinn.

"There is a way to join the sleeping bags to share body warmth. And before you get any funny ideas in your head, the only reason I'm even suggesting this is strictly because I refuse to return a frozen soldier to Haylen and task her with defrosting you."

"Yeaaah, I-I've had enough of t-that already," joked Quinn through shudders, opening her sleeping bag. The lack of annoying jokes at her superior's clear discomfort served as proof for how desperate she was to get some warmth. While she removed the extra jacket that had proven to be useless, Danse zipped the two bags together, creating one giant sleeping bag. Both felt a bit awkward when settling down in this new sleeping arrangement, but it seemed to be worth it as the jitters of Quinn's body calmed down surprisingly fast and the annoying rattling of teeth stopped.

_And I must admit, it is nice to not be alone after that dream_. Danse yawned, turning his back towards Quinn to assume a more comfortable position, keeping a respectful distance between them. _And who knows, I might still get some actual sleep this way._

The morning brought both of them a moment of confusion when they woke up with backs comfortably against each other. "Morning, Initiate," greeted Danse with as much formality as he could muster in that situation. Clambering out from the sleeping bag, he swore to personally check the equipment Quinn brings to the next mission to make sure she had enough to keep her warm. As unexpectedly cosy as this had been, it was not strictly following the code.

"So, this is a standard Brotherhood teambuilding exercise?" quipped the Initiate with a grin, using the uncomfortable look on her superior's face for her personal amusement. Now free of the threat of hypothermia, she was evidently finding the situation hilarious. "Don't worry, I won't go telling the other soldiers. Rhys might be scared to go out in the field with you." Danse grunted in frustration and opened the tent flap to get away from his insufferable subordinate. _That's what I get for being nice to someone._

The packed up camp and shared a cold breakfast before heading out. The journey to the building complex that housed the next distress signal was a short one, only taking them a few hours. The National Guard training yard was not too heavily defended – there were a few turrets set up, but with their laser rifles they made short work out of them. The situation got trickier when they were faced with a group of ghouls just minutes later. Danse could now understand the report Rhys had made about his ghoul-clearing mission with the Initiate. The moment Quinn saw the first creature making its way towards her, she seemed to lock up, gaze vacant and face quickly draining of blood.

"Shoot at them, damnit!" shouted Danse as they came dangerously close to being overrun. "Initiate Quinn, that is an order!" She seemed to snap out of her petrified state long enough to help with at least a few of the creatures, though most of the work was obviously left for Danse. As he whipped around on the spot to admonish her for poor performance, the look on her face seemed oddly familiar. The pale skin, looking a bit clammy with cold sweat, the devoid look in her eyes… he had seen that before on many different faces.

He sighed and set the butt of his rifle on the ground. "Out with it. What the hell was that?" He sounded harsher than he meant to, but that was mostly due to his discomfort for being forced to have another conversation like that. But it had to be done or she would be another one of those temporary recruits that last for a few weeks until the biting comments from Rhys or the fear of battle weeded them out.

Quinn swallowed hard, averting her glance from the dead creatures strewn across the distance between them and the building they had been heading for. "I keep seeing faces on them." She took a deep breath and wiped her forehead with an open palm, hand slightly shaking. "As in I see the faces of people I know… knew. They all used to be humans. And this is all that is left of the people I grew up with, the people I studied and worked with. Anyone of these abominations could be someone I bought a sandwich from, someone who used to solve math equations with me or even someone I saw on the street for a brief moment after bumping into them."

She turned to face him, eyes full of pain. "And now that you have told me where super mutants come from, it's even worse. These are _people_ we are killing! They had a life, a future! And now they have almost nothing left and we take even that from them."

_Oh damn. Not what I expected._ "Quinn, they are _not_ people. They are less than animals, they don't even have the instincts to reproduce or look after their offspring or create a cosy living environment for a family to grow in. They have only one instinct and that is to kill anything that is different from them. There isn't any self-preservation, which is the strongest instinct of humans and animals alike. These abominations, they see someone dressed in metal and wielding a powerful weapon and their reaction is not to run away – instead, they throw themselves at you, trying to do as much damage as possible before they die."

Danse put a metal-clad arm on her shoulder, nearly making her knees buckle under the weight. "Trust me, you are doing them a favour by putting them out of their misery. Whoever or whatever they were before, all of that is gone. They are mere shells, out for destruction and chaos. They cannot be allowed to exist."

The message seemed to be getting through. Danse knew it would take her some time to fully process everything and get over this strange aversion to clearing the world of scum, but he was willing to grant that time as long as there was constant improvement. She did do a bit better with the ghouls they encountered inside the building. The look of horror was still clearly present in her eyes, but at least she pulled the trigger at every approaching creature and did not freeze in place.

Despite having prepared himself mentally for what they would find, it was still painful to finally come across the body of Knight Astlin in the corner of one of the rooms that had been crowded with abominations. She had been a good soldier, brave and faithful to the end. _Ad victoriam, Knight. May steel forever be with you._ He tried to stop the invading thought of how many more times he would have to repeat this goodbye before the end of their mission.

The remaining members of Recon Squad Artemis had not gone far, according to the holotape the Knight had left behind – the Revere satellite array was just across the road from their location. Hoping that they were coming to the end of this breadcrumb trail littered with bodies, Danse ordered them to set out immediately after having a quick lunch to regain some energy.

The sight that opened in front of them as they approached the satellite compound was as if taken from one of his nightmares. The place was crawling with super mutants and their freakish green dogs; abhorrent bags made out of flesh were hanging from every possible hook, sending out the kind of rotten smell that threatened to bring his lunch back up. Even though he knew they were up against an overwhelming force and there was no way they could win this encounter, Danse found himself charging in.

With blood hammering in his ears, he ran blindly into the compound, firing at everything that moved and drawing the attention of every single mutant in the vicinity. Over the sound of super mutant shouts, the firing of the weapons and the strange roar that seemed to come from his own mouth, he could barely hear the frantic screaming of Quinn somewhere further back. When he finally registered the noise and turned around to react to the curses she was sending in his direction, the abominations noticed her existence as well.

Within a split second, the reality of the situation sunk in and he realised he had probably sentenced both of them to death. They would have needed an entire squad of soldiers in power armour to win this exchange, but they only had a helmetless Paladin in now half-destroyed armour and one terrified Initiate who was trying to shoot down the mutant dogs that were rushing in her direction, their yellow teeth bared in hunger.

Somehow pulling himself free from the clutches of the mutant that was trying to slam him to the ground, Danse ran faster than he ever had, pushing past the dogs to reach Quinn. _I will at least save her, even if it is the last thing I do. She will not suffer for my mistakes._ In full sprint, she grabbed the woman by her waist and threw her on the shoulder of his armour as he passed by. The turbo run function of his power armour was pushed to its limits as he strained to leave the pursuing abominations behind. There were bullets whizzing around them, some ricocheting off the metal plates of his armour. He could only hope they were not hitting the Initiate who was letting out a loud string of all expletives she knew, holding Righteous Authority in a death grip as to not lose it.

Finally, the mutants broke the pursuit and retreated to their base. Danse kept running as long as he could, before setting the still cursing soldier on the ground as gently as possible. She looked like she was ready to shoot him in the face of at least deliver the strongest punch she could. He suspected that he was saved of the latter purely because she couldn't reach his face properly due to the power armour.

"What the FUCK!?" shouted Quinn, throwing her rifle to the ground in anger. "You steaming fucking pile of hypocritical horseshit! Giving me all these fucking lectures about needlessly endangering my life and then fucking clocking out of all reason to go and assault a fucking mutant base!?" She grabbed a handful of muggy soil and launched it at the Paladin's face. "Were you trying to get both of us killed? You damn near succeeded, you piece of shit!"

Danse looked almost pitiful, listening to the rant with a blob of mud dropping off his face. _What was I thinking? That I could get revenge for Cutler? Was I even thinking at all? What the hell happened there?_

Quinn stopped for a moment to catch her breath. Danse used the opportunity to exit his power armour, staggering as his feet hit the ground. He ended up sitting down right where he had stepped, causing Quinn to end the coarse shouting that she had picked up again after drawing a breath. She stood there glaring for a moment, before landing next to him. In an unexpected peace offering, she took her extra jacket from the backpack to wipe off some of the dirt she had thrown in his face. _Is that pity in her eyes? I deserve nor need none of it. She does, however, deserve an explanation and apology for this._

With a heavy heart, Danse opened up to a fellow soldier for the first time in years. He explained how he had joined the Brotherhood with a friend who had been forcibly turned into a super mutant after a year of them serving together. Finding him in the super mutant hive, Danse had done the only thing he could do in that situation and ended his friend's miserable existence.

Quinn remained silent for a while after Danse told her the story and apologised for the bout of rage that had caused him to lose control and put both of them in danger. Finally, she offered him a smile that looked almost encouraging. "So, I guess that one of the requirements for being a member of the Brotherhood is to be royally fucked up in some way. Seems like I will fit right in after all."

She stood up and extended an arm to help Danse to his feet. "Just keep in mind that the next time you pull shit like this, it will not be just mud that I throw at you. Don't you fucking dare to go dying in front of me – especially if you seem determined that I should share the same fate."

Almost laughing at the insolence, Danse decided to allow it this time. "Same to you, Initiate. Seems like we have finally come to an understanding about cooperation. Neither of us will try any suicidal stunts from now on." He forced himself to look serious to retain some level of authority. "No word of any of this to the rest of the squad and I will look past the inappropriate language and behaviour."

Now openly grinning, Quinn agreed. "It will be our little secret. Now I finally have some leverage to make sure you will not tell anyone about my origins."

"If that makes you feel more comfortable about your situation." Danse shook his head and turned to inspect the power armour that had taken a beating. He patted the shredded back plate with a sigh. "Ingram will _not_ be happy about this one, I will have to be issued a new power armour yet again."

Their last activity before heading back towards Cambridge Police station was to remove everything from the armour that could be salvaged and then trigger the emergency self-destruct command to make sure no raiders would pick up the remains. Danse felt almost naked, walking through the Commonwealth without his protective layer, but the main thing was that they were both alive. That had to be worth at least half a dozen power armours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, some more Fox and Danse interactions! I had a lot of fun writing a slightly different version of the "There is only one bed" trope, hopefully it was fun for you to read as well ^^


	5. Hope Remains

Fox muttered a curse under her breath. Haylen’s assumption had been right; the metro station was in a too convenient location to remain empty after all these years. Considering Vault-Tec had been constructing a vault underneath the station, it really shouldn’t have surprised Fox that the Brotherhood was not the first to come looking for loot here. _Useful technology, not loot,_ she corrected herself. Danse still got annoyed every time she insinuated that they had some similarities with raiders and scavengers. Sure, the Brotherhood helped to clean the Wasteland of “undesirables”, but that did not erase the fact that they were hoarding technology for their own use.

“How do we find out whether they’re hostile or not without alerting the entire station to our presence?” she whispered to Danse who was crouching next to her. Fox had to try her best not to crack jokes about how uncomfortable Danse looked without his trusty tin can for protection. After getting used to just barging in and shooting everyone, it must have been killing him to be reduced to careful sneaking tactics to get the same job done. Even after several missions together, it never failed to cheer her up to see the miserable-looking Paladin trying to sneak.

Danse focused on one of the men through his scope, squinting a bit. “From their fedoras and suits I’d say they are members of the Triggermen.” He took another look, disgust appearing on his face. “Definitely Triggermen, they have ghouls.”

Fox tensed up. “You mean in cages or something?” _Why would anyone keep ghouls around? Do they have a death wish?_

After a momentary confused look in her direction, Danse pointed at the dark-suited man sitting with his back towards them. “That is a ghoul. It’s not feral yet, but this stage is just one step away from turning feral. The Triggermen use ghouls for a lot of their dirty work.”

“So… how big is the chance that we’ll get to just waltz in and check out the contents of the Vault?” Fox tried to keep the conversation light and jokey, but her nerves were on the edge and the rifle ready for shooting, should the need arise.

“Funny, Initiate.” Danse sighed, lowering his gun. “The best course of action at this point would be to return to base. They haven’t noticed us, so we should be able-”

He got cut off by a horrid clanging sound as Fox accidentally elbowed the open door of the Nuka-Cola machine behind her, sending it crashing into the wall. “Shit!” Fox slammed a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Danse grabbed the rifle she was nearly dropping and pushed it back in her hands. “Stay sharp, Initiate!”

Danse set his laser weapon ready and took a shot the moment one of the Triggermen reached for his holster. The target fell back without even managing to touch his pistol, a dazed expression frozen on his face. His companion, armed with a baseball bat decked in barbed wire, slipped in the blood as he tried to make his way to the Brotherhood soldiers. To her own great surprise, Fox was the one to take the man down as he tried to scramble to his feet. _Self-defence. It’s pure self-defence._ She reloaded, consciously trying to keep her breath steady.

Retreating wasn’t as easy as they had hoped. The gunshots had alerted other Triggermen, who were now steadily making their way upstairs. Sneaking out of the station was out of the question, as the hostiles following them would draw the attention of every raider and mutant in the vicinity – and the two soldiers had experienced enough troubles trying to get to their current location unnoticed. Neither of them was ready to face the giant super mutant that had taken up residence in the lake just next to the station. No, the only way out of this mess was killing the Triggermen inside.

Fox started to feel robotic, crouching behind cover and shooting at one hostile after another. Whenever she managed to shoot someone’s kneecaps or otherwise disable their ability to pursue the soldiers, Danse was ready to finish them off with a clear headshot. In a way, that made Fox feel better about the situation. She wasn’t the one delivering the killing blow and that had to count for something.

When the last Triggerman fell and the echo of gunshots quieted down, Fox exhaled in relief. “I guess we can return now,” she suggested, strapping the rifle to her back. Seeing the puzzled look of the Paladin, she sighed in resignation. “Or keep going and look for tech since we already cleared the place.”

“That’s more like it. Would be a waste of ammo to leave now, without achieving our goal.” Danse reloaded his rifle and commanded Fox to do the same. “Stay vigilant, we don’t know how many are still left.”

Going through the station left Fox in a trance-like state. She moved when instructed, shot when she saw movement and crouched while Danse was assessing the situation in front of them. It was easier to switch off a part of her brain and retreat to some better place inside her head than to look everyone in the eyes before shooting them. Reaching the Vault door made her snap back to reality for a moment. This was not something she wanted to relive.

“Are you feeling alright?” Danse had stopped, giving Fox a concerned look. “You look like you’re about to pass out.” She shook her head, forcing herself to smile. It clearly looked less than convincing, since Danse ordered her to sit on the bench near the Vault entrance. “Take all the time you need, soldier. There is no need to push yourself to the limit like this, we had a hard fight and there is no shame in admitting you need a break.”

Fox leaned her head in her hands, elbows propped on the knees. “It’s not that. I should not have joined for this mission; you should have taken Rhys instead. I didn’t think that seeing a vault would affect me this much.”

A shadow passed over Danse’s face as the realisation hit him. “No, this was my fault,” he said with a surprisingly soft tone, taking a seat next to Fox. “I knew your past and I did not realise this could be an issue. Considering my own issues with unpleasant memories, I should have known not to put you in this situation.”

He gave her shoulder a slightly awkward squeeze. “If you would rather return to base, just say the word. It is up to you to decide when you are ready for such missions.”

Fox looked up to face her superior, with determination in her eyes instead of tears. “I appreciate the offer, but we have come this far already and I don’t intend to give up at this point. I can do this.” Her legs shook a bit when she stood up and she swallowed back some bile that had risen to her throat, but her mind was made up. “I’ll have to get over this at some point. Might as well start now. Lead the way.”

Danse gave her a moment to change her mind, but when the Initiate pointed her rifle down the corridor and repeated her last sentence, he gave in. They moved in silence, eliminating some more Triggermen who had been playing cards and drinking instead of guard duty. Eventually they reached the main hall of the Vault. It was eerily empty, especially considering its size. There were tools and ladders lying around and some walls were only half-built, since the break-out of war had stopped all construction.

Since she didn’t spot any people, Fox was about to head for the stairs on the left. She was stopped by Danse’s hand that forced her to duck behind a half-wall. “We’re not alone,” he whispered, pointing towards the higher end of the hall. Someone was standing on top of the metal walkway, facing a window between the hall and a side room.

“He has a hostage,” muttered Fox, chills going down her spine as she listened to the stranger taunting whoever was being held captive in the smaller room. Without waiting for a signal from Danse, she started making her way up the stairs, keeping her steps quiet and Righteous Authority at the ready. With her focus glued to the man ahead, she barely even noticed Danse’s furious whisper ordering her to stop.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” His voice was reduced to a hiss as he grabbed the Initiate’s arm to keep her still. “No suicide missions, remember? You don’t just sneak off like this.” Fox blinked a few times, trying to focus on the incensed face of her superior. “We should have returned to the base,” grumbled Danse before releasing Fox’s arm. “You stay behind me, got it?”

“Got it,” confirmed Fox, feeling more confused than irritated at being scolded. _I was moving quietly, not barging in and getting myself killed. What’s his problem?_

They had almost reached the upper landing of stairs before the Triggerman heard their footsteps. “Who’s there?” he snarled, grabbing his pistol. In response, the hostage mocked him from his room in a drawling voice. “What’s the matter, Dino? Hearing ghosts?”

Danse stepped out of cover, his rifle pointing straight at Dino’s heart. “Drop your weapon.” He gave a brief nod towards the ground. “Now, scum. Or I will fire a warning shot straight through your chest.”

Fox, still hidden behind the concrete column, raised her eyebrows. _I guess he’s even more irritated than I guessed. Geez, sorry for taking two fucking steps without consulting you first._

For a moment it seemed like Dino was going to comply with Danse’s orders. Fox was expecting to hear the metal clang of a gun being dropped, but instead there was quick succession of a bang, the Paladin cursing and his laser slicing through Dino’s heart. Fox rushed out of her cover, only to see Dino’s already dead body hitting the ground and Danse’s rifle following suit so he could inspect his left arm.

“Shit!” Fox hurried next to her cursing superior who was clearly shot and very pissed off. “Did you forget you weren’t wearing your power armour?” She stepped closer to inspect Danse’s wound, but he waved her off with a grunt.

“Sorry to break up your little get-together, but we’ve got about three minutes before they realise muscles-for-brains ain’t coming back,” came a gruff voice from the room. “Get this door open. Dino should have the pass card on him.”

Seeing as Danse was not in a state to do much searching, Fox left him to assess his injury and took initiative. Patting down Dino’s pockets, she found the little orange card that could be swiped on the terminal next to the door. Just in case, she held Righteous Authority at the ready when the rusty door slid open.

The room was mostly dark, with only a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Judging by the fancy desk and the amount of terminals, Fox assumed this was to be the Overseer’s room once the construction work had been finished. A man in an old mustard-coloured raincoat stepped towards her, a cigarette glowing in his hand.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario,” drawled the stranger, his face still shrouded in the shadows. “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?” _Why is he talking like he is some kind of a strange book character? And wait, private eye?_

“You’re a detective?” A sliver of hope brought a smile to Fox’s face. “As in someone who could find a missing person?” She extended her hand in greeting. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Fox.”

The detective responded with a low chuckle, but didn’t react to the handshake offer. “You’re a fox, huh? That’s a statement I’ve not heard before. I’m Nick Valentine.” He gave a wave with his free hand, indicating the room they were in. “I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn’t kidnapped after all. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame and she’s got a mean streak. But we can share stories later, let’s get the hell out of here first. Then we’ll talk.”

He walked to the table to put out his cigarette. Danse entered the room just as Nick turned around under the circle of light provided by the lone bulb. “It’s a synth!” spat the Paladin in surprise, trying to lift his rifle for shooting and giving up with a grunt of pain. “What are you waiting for, Quinn?! Shoot it!”

Fox was backing away as she grabbed Righteous Authority to point it at Nick. Now that he was not standing in shadows anymore, she could see the machinery under the torn skin imitation pulled over the detective’s metal frame. The eyes were eerie yellow circles that seemed to glow – or maybe they did actually glow and she had missed that in her fervent need to find someone to help with the search for her son? _But he talks like an actual person! What the hell is this and how did I not see it before?_

Her hands were shaking as she held the rifle, finger still not on the trigger. “Shoot it!” repeated Danse, the grimace on his face a mixture of pain and disgust. Fox still hesitated, taking another step away from Nick. “What are you?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice level.

“I told you, I’m a detective.” Nick spread his arms, letting the light shine on his right hand that was a bare metal skeleton. “Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain’t comforting, but it’s not important right now. What _is_ important is that we’ll all be dead if we don’t leave fast. And from what I heard, you’d want some help with a missing person. I’m of more help when alive.”

After a moment of hesitation, Fox lowered her rifle. “I’m sorry, Danse.” She turned to face the furious Paladin, jaw squared in determination. “I am not going to kill someone who could help me find Shaun.” She felt a painful pang as she said the name. _This is the first time I’ve told his name to anyone here. I shouldn’t have done that._

“You have no guarantee he is going to be of any help,” bristled Danse, struggling to point his rifle at the synth with one arm. He was weakened from the shot, but hiding it to the best of his capabilities, evidently reluctant to admit the extent of his injury. Fox walked over to him and pushed the barrel down, fury rising in her as well. “I have no fucking guarantee from the Brotherhood either, so I’m taking my chances wherever I can. The synth lives or I leave.”

“Touching.” Nick pushed past the soldiers who were still staring each other down to pick up Dino’s pistol. “Now how about we get the hell out of here? You can continue arguing about how much you want to kill me once we’ve left a safe distance between us and this Vault.”

Fox felt like she was walking on eggshells as they headed for the exit. She kept deliberately placing herself between the two men, in fear of Danse attempting to take down the detective despite not even being able to even hold his weapon straight. Then again, there was about as big a chance that the synth would turn on them and finish what the previous owner of the pistol he was carrying hadn’t been able to do.

Since Fox and Danse had taken care of most Triggermen on their way to the Vault, they only met minimal resistance for a while. That made Nick nervous, since he was expecting more trouble. “Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us somewhere,” he muttered as they made their way through the winding corridors. “The name’s… uh… ironic. But don’t let that fool you. He’s dangerous.”

“No worries, we’ll handle him,” promised Fox. Her voice sounded more certain than she felt. With now silently seething Danse out of action, their firepower was reduced to Righteous Authority in Fox’s moderately inexperienced hands and the pistol Nick had picked up. Fox prayed that would be enough to buy their way out of this underground hellhole. _I refuse to die, especially now that I have found someone who could perhaps help me._

Their crew of three came face to face with Skinny Malone just before the Vault door. The chubby gangster was accompanied by two bodyguards and a bat-wielding woman in a shiny dress. Malone spread his arms as he stepped closer to the detective. “Nicky, what’re you doing? You come into my house, shoot up my guys… You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?”

Nick took a step forward as well, harsh lamplight shining through his neck that had barely any skin on it. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell Darla to write home more often.”

Darla laughed, her shrill voice giving Fox shivers. “Aww, poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl?” Malone slowly shook his head as Darla stepped next to him, swinging the bat in her hands.

“Should’ve left it alone, Nicky.” The gangster’s voice sounded almost sad, making Fox think these two probably had some history. “This ain’t the old neighbourhood. In this Vault, I’m the king of the castle, you hear me?”

“Kings don’t have to announce they’re kings,” said Fox with an ironic smile. Nick gave her a warning look, but she ignored it, turning to Darla instead. “Darla, listen to me. You have a home to go back to. Don’t throw your life away with these thugs. This self-proclaimed king is not your ticket to _the good life_.”

Fox took pleasure in seeing a mix of emotions wash over the other woman’s face before Darla admitted she had made a mistake and told Malone she was leaving. Malone liked that development considerably less, turning to Nick in annoyance as Darla ran for the exit, even leaving her bat behind. “Oh come on, Nicky! You cost me my men, now you and your friend cost me my girl?”

“My friend here just did you favour, Skinny. You always did have bad taste in women.” Nick took a pause, reading Malone’s expression. He waved towards the exit that was just behind the gangster. “Now that she’s not around to feed that temper of yours, maybe you’ll see sense and let us walk? You still owe me for two weeks in that hole.”

“You smug, overconfident ass!” bellowed Malone, finger twitching on the trigger. _Shit, Nick just got all of us killed._ To Fox’s and everyone else’s great relief, Malone lowered his gun and stepped aside. “Alright, you get to the count of ten. I still see your face after that, I’m gunning all of you down!” True to his word, he started slowly counting numbers.

As Nick started running towards the exit, Fox suddenly remembered the presence of Danse. He was still standing there, holding his rifle in the good hand and glaring at Malone, blood slowly dripping on the floor. Fox rushed to the Paladin and gave his back a small push. “Danse, leave it. We have to go. You can be angry with me later.” Begrudgingly, he set for the exit as well.

They caught up with Nick at the exit of the metro station. The detective sighed in relief as the doors shut behind them. “Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting…” He gave Fox a slight nod. “Thanks for getting me out. How did you know where to find me anyway? Not many people knew where I went.”

Fox shrugged. “Honestly, I was just there at the right time. Seemed like you needed help.” She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that rose every time she looked at the synth, but he wasn’t aggressive towards her, nor even towards the Paladin towering next to her, looking like he could tear Nick apart with bare hands.

“You’re lucky I was shot before seeing what you were,” growled Danse, wincing in pain as he tried to move his left arm to grab his rifle properly. “I would have put you down.”

Nick gave him a wry smile. “Good to know. I’ll be keeping my pistol nearby when you’re around. I don’t really fancy ending up dead in an alleyway.” Turning to Fox, he continued. “I want you to come to my office in Diamond City, preferably without this goon here. Give me all the details so I can open an investigation.”

“You’re not going alone anywhere with this synth.” Danse’s dark eyes looked full of fire as he gave Fox a resolute stare. “I am not letting someone under my command make such bad calls, putting themselves in danger.”

Fox tore her helmet off and threw it at the ground. “What can you do to stop me from going, smear blood on me? You can’t even lift a gun.” She was ready to storm off, until she realised in what position she would be putting Danse with that. As infuriating as he was, she could not abandon the man who had saved her life on several occasions by now. She couldn’t leave him out here, injured and clearly in pain. _He would die in his stubbornness._

Feeling ridiculous, she picked up the helmet and set it back on her head. “You’re coming with us.” That wasn’t even a question, it was a statement. Danse did not seem to approve, but Fox continued quickly, cutting off his attempt to interrupt even before he managed to open his mouth. “Look, I need someone who can help me and here we have a detective who does stuff like that for a living. I am going anyway, so the best thing you could do is join us. It’s a win-win situation, I get a detective working on my case and you get to glare at him the entire time.”

Nick let out a gruff laugh at the last bit. “Sounds like a blast. Though he may want to visit the surgery instead and get that arm looked at.” Fox sent Danse an almost pleading look. Whatever arguments he was struggling with, Danse finally agreed to the plan.

“Just one condition. You are never left alone with the synth.” Fox decided not to challenge him on this rule, at least not before they make it to their destination. _Maybe he can get accidentally sedated… Depends on how keen the doctor is on accepting bribes._

By the time they entered through the giant gate that protected Diamond City, Danse had barely any strength left for walking. He staggered on his feet, using the nearest wall as support to make sure he stayed upright. Fox strapped her rifle to her back and went to his aid.

“Hey-hey-hey, no fainting here,” she said with a cheery voice, dread rising inside. “Let’s get you to the hospital and have you patched up, alright? Just lean on me, that’s it.” She put an arm around his back, encouraging him to use her as a crutch. _Damnit, what if he dies here? It would be all my fault, I should have accepted his offer to return to the police station. He’s not even talking, I bet he can barely understand what’s going on around him._

Fox took back her last thought very fast. Danse understood enough to snarl at Nick when he offered a helping hand, seeing that Fox was nearly doubled over under the weight. Fortunately, she didn’t have to drag him far as the surgery was very close to city gates. Doctor Sun took over immediately, getting Danse lying down on a bed for proper examination and administering some meds for the pain.

“It’s just a bullet wound, but he has lost blood. Should have brought him in earlier,” snapped the doctor. _He is probably not known for his pleasant bedside manner… but as long as he makes sure Danse is alright, I don’t really care. Damn, I’ve never seen Danse so pale. Not even after his fuck-up at the satellite array._

“We came as fast as we could.” Fox shot another worried glance in her superior’s direction. “He’s going to be fine though, right? Just slap some more meds in and remove the bullet and he’ll be up in no time. It’s strange to not be lectured for such a long time, I’m not used to him being so quiet around me.”

Doctor Sun didn’t appreciate the quips; his eyebrows knitted together in the middle as he did further examinations on the patient who was close to losing consciousness. “He will probably be knocked out for a while, so feel free to return later. I will get started on fixing his arm.”

Danse’s eyes flitted open for a moment, fixating on Fox with confusion and a level of urgency. She stepped closer to the bed, putting a calming hand on his right shoulder. “You’re in the hospital now, the doc will take care of you. I’ll be right here when he’s done with your arm, alright? Then you can do all the lecturing and being angry and all, for now just try to relax.” She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and offered an encouraging smile.

“I really hope that’s mostly the drugs,” sighed Fox as she joined Nick who had kept a respectful distance from the situation. “Though I must admit his little nap is conveniently timed. So, where’s your office?”

When they entered the detective’s cramped office, a flurry of faded pink flew in their direction. “Nick, you’re back! I really thought they would have taken you down this time.”

Nick allowed the short woman to hug him for a bit, before detaching himself from her grip with a smile. “Takes more than a few mobsters to take me down, Ellie. You know that.”

Ellie gave him an admonishing glance, retreating back to her desk to rearrange some case files. Even though she attempted to look stern, her sheer happiness was shining through. “You keep laughing at death and someday, death is going to laugh back.”

Nick gave a low chuckle. “Not as long as I got a few friends to back me up. Speaking of which, would you mind making a cup of tea for our new friend over here? She rescued me from that damn Vault and I offered to help her with a missing person case.”

He offered Fox a seat on the other side of his desk, getting comfortably settled in his own chair. Leaning against the table, he placed his fingertips together, the metal hand momentarily spooking Fox. “So, start from the beginning and try to remember as many details as possible. I realise this might be painful for you, but the more you can tell, the better chance we have.”

Fox breathed slowly in and out a few times, trying to decide where to begin. “We were in a vault when it happened. Vault 111. I went there with my husband and son, hoping for safety. We got tricked and put on ice instead. The place was some kind a cryo facility.”

Nick leaned back, processing the scene in his head. “On ice, huh? But more importantly, you were underground, sealed up. That means a lot of effort was needed to take just one person. But do go on, how did the kidnapping happen?”

The memory was painful to dig up, but Fox closed her eyes to picture it better. “We were in separate cryo pods, my husband and I. He had Shaun, our baby. He wasn’t even a year old. When I defrosted, I saw a man and a woman in the room. I couldn’t get out, so I could only watch and listen. They didn’t talk much, just headed straight to my husband’s pod, opened it and ordered him to hand over Shaun. When he refused, the man just… he just shot my husband.”

She turned her head so he wouldn’t see the tears. _This is not the time for crying. I’ve done enough of that, it’s time for action now._ She was grateful for the interruption from Ellie who brought her a steaming cup of tea. Holding the warm mug was oddly comforting and provided some distraction from reliving the worst day of her life.

“So we’re talking a small team.” Nick broke the silence, his voice quiet and raspy. “Professionals, the kind that know how to keep their lips tight on the job. Why would they target your family in particular and why come for the baby? Someone would be taking on all of his care and an infant needs a lot of it.”

Nick lit a cigarette and took a few drags on it before continuing. “That confirms it. This isn’t a random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda.” He let out a puff of smoke, glowing yellow eyes looking through Fox. “There’s a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people. Raiders, super mutants, the Gunners, the Institute… Not all of them would fit the profile of this kidnapping though.”

“I guess we can rule out super mutants, unless my eyesight has seriously deteriorated without me noticing it,” said Fox with slight humour in her voice. Even when discussing the abduction of her own son, she couldn’t leave her shield of jokes behind. “Who are the Gunners though?”

“High-end mercenaries. No job too brutal. They’re in the running as likely suspects, but they wouldn’t be the ones pulling the strings.” Nick took another puff of the cigarette that he held in his metal hand. “Raiders we can leave aside as well. They can barely organise themselves, so we can safely assume they would not be able to pull off something this complicated.”

“So you think it’s the Institute?” Fox felt rather sceptical about that option. “I thought they were mostly the bogeyman of the Commonwealth, a convenient thing to blame when stuff goes wrong.”

“You’re not far from the truth,” agreed Nick. He put out the butt of his cigarette and reached for a new one. “They are a more formidable force than just a scary bedtime story though. The worst part is that nobody really knows what their plan is or where they are. Not even me, and I’m a synth myself. A discarded prototype, anyway.”

Fox felt a sudden wave of anger washing over her. “Don’t lie to me, Nick. You’re one of them, they made you. There’s no way in hell I’ll believe you don’t know anything.”

Nick was surprisingly unfazed by this burst of emotion. “Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. “You’re a freak”, “You’ve got something to hide”, blah blah blah. The truth is, I have no way to get to the Institute. If I did, they wouldn’t have thrown me out in a pile of trash like that, they would have properly destroyed me. But this is getting us off the track. How about you try to recall some more details from the kidnapping. Any little bit would help. For example, what did they look like?”

Forcing herself to calm down, Fox shut her eyes again. The awful memories flooded her head, released from the secret shelf where she usually kept them neatly packed away. “The woman was dressed in some kind of a hazard suit. The man… he had a metal brace on his arm, it looked rather odd. He came right up to me at some point, like he wanted to taunt me. I don’t think he had any hair. Mm… and he had a scar! Right across the right eye, if I remember correctly.”

Nick looked taken aback at that last bit. “Wait… it couldn’t be.” Ellie, who had been witnessing the exchange in silence, joined the conversation. “You’re thinking of Kellogg? The description would match. Bald, scar, reputation for violence… And he bought a house here in town. Didn’t he have a kid with him?”

Fox shot up from her seat. “That’s Shaun, it has to be!”

Nick signalled her to sit down. “Don’t get your hopes up, lass. The boy was around ten years old, yours wasn’t even a toddler yet. That’s over nine years difference by my count.”

After a moment of hesitation, Fox decided to come clean about her origin, hoping it would give Nick some useful leads. “It’s fully possible. We entered the vault when the bombs fell. I was frozen for 210 years. At some point we got defrosted, but the bastards put me back on ice as they left. So Shaun could have been kidnapped ten years ago, for all I know.” Her sentences came short and clipped as she tried to detach herself from what she was saying. _He could be dead by now. This could have been a random 10-year-old kid, someone this piece of shit kidnapped after Shaun wasn’t useful to him anymore._

To her surprise, Nick was not shocked by this revelation. “When you said you got frozen in the Vault, I already guessed this may have been for a longer time. I haven’t heard anyone else calling doc Sun’s surgery a hospital. In the Commonwealth, hospitals are more known as abandoned ruins. Plus, there ain’t many people around who’d even know the word _fox_.” After allowing Fox a moment to gather herself and discreetly wipe away the new tears she had been trying to hide, Nick got up from his desk. “Let’s you and I take a walk over to Kellogg’s last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went.”

Fox followed suit, smoothing her army fatigues as she stood up. _Danse should still be out for a while, so there’s no harm in checking out that house. What he doesn’t know, can’t harm him._ She nodded at the detective. “After you, Nick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel almost guilty for knocking poor Danse out, but I had to advance the main storyline without him killing the synth detective on sight. This seemed like the best way to do it without making him magically disappear for a while.


	6. Regrouped, Reloaded

The heavy doors of Fort Hagen opened with a creak, allowing Fox and Nick to step into the cool night air. Feeling like she was finally able to breathe properly, Fox leaned on the railing and took in a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. Nick took a similar position next to her, looking down the metal staircase. "This is not how I imagined the day would end."

Fox turned towards the detective, an ironic smile on her face. "Oh really? And here I was, already knowing I'd be facing my son's kidnapper and end up blowing off half his head. I do shit like this on a daily basis. Heck, I kill random criminals for fun! But only on Tuesdays. Other evenings I have chess club."

Nick shook his head, now letting out a sigh of his own. "Look, I know you've had a rough time and I ain't gonna fault you for wanting to let out some of that frustration. But at least we got somewhere with this, we know it was the Institute." He fumbled with his pockets to retrieve a cigarette and a lighter, before leaning back on the railing. "This is as far as my knowledge could get us though. We need some external help to go further."

Fox looked at the smoke rising from his cigarette as if that was the most interesting thing in the world, trying to avoid thinking about the reality for just a few minutes. Her failsafe wasn’t working this time, even shielding herself with humour couldn’t erase the painful void inside her. She tried her best not to shudder when Nick put his more human-like left hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Gently moving herself a bit further away along the railing, she averted her look from the detective. "I don't need sympathy, I need to get my son back."

“With nobody knowing how to get inside the Institute, our hands are rather tied.” Nick clicked his metal fingertips together, deep in thought. “Unless… Kellogg had to have a way to move in and out. That could be our key to finding the Institute.”

Fox shot him a puzzled look, arms now wrapped around her waist in a defensive stance. “Yeah, that doesn’t really help us since I couldn’t control my itching trigger finger. So you’re saying I may have just sabotaged our only chance of finding Shaun by blowing that fucker Kellogg’s brains out?”

“Hm, brains,” mumbled Nick, eyes lighting up. “That’s it. The thingamajig you picked up, you still have it?” Fox retrieved the thing in question from her pocket, narrowing her eyes in hatred and disgust as she looked at the mess of brain matter and technology. _I’m still not sure why I even took it. Some kind of a twisted trophy to assure myself that the asshole was really dead, I guess._

Nick hummed to himself as he inspected the piece in her hand. “Yes, this should do. Now, hear me out on this one before you start calling me insane. There’s this place in Goodneighbor, called the Memory Den. They let you relive the past moments in your mind as clear as the day they happened. I have this theory that we should be able to access memories from Kellogg’s brain there as well. Doctor Amari is a brilliant woman, I wouldn’t put it past her to hack this cybernetic gizmo and set us on the right path.”

"Sure, whatever you sugg- …what is that?" The odd noise Fox had been hearing since they had stepped outside had grown a lot louder, paired with a spot of light in the distance. "It's coming in our direction."

They waited in silence, staring at the rapidly moving spot that turned out to be a giant airship as it got closer. Against the dark sky, the ship was shining in a metal gleam, beams of light illuminating the ground it passed over. It was flanked by several vertibirds, slowly circling around the mothership, darting in and out of the circles of light. "People of the Commonwealth," boomed a voice from the airship. "Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel."

Fox gave a low chuckle. "I guess they finally sent in the cavalry. Oh Brotherhood of Steel, you’re many things, but subtle you are not.”

Nick hadn’t said a word, just looked at the airship pass with a pensive look on his face. After Fox’s comment, he murmured a line of poetry. “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing.”

Fox’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Wait, was that Edgar Allan Poe? Didn’t think that was relevant information to a detective.” Now frowning, she turned to face Nick. “Also, where the hell did you even find this? I thought most books had been destroyed due to the blast and the resulting fires.”

Staring at nothing in particular, Nick let out a gruff laugh. “Let’s just say a man from a long time ago was a fan of poetry. Some of it has rubbed off on me.” He nodded his head towards the ground below them. “Ready to get out of this hellhole and head to Goodneighbor?”

The Pip-Boy on Fox’s arm lurched to life with a buzzing notification, interrupting the conversation. After a short bit of fiddling with the controls in the dark, Fox enabled the radio on her device to listen to the message from Cambridge Police Station. “I see Paladin Danse managed to get back to the station. And unless the others had gone out in the meanwhile, I guess this call to base is directed towards me. Damnit.”

The need to follow the trail of her son’s disappearance and her sense of duty for the Brotherhood were battling inside Fox, causing her to frown almost as deeply as Danse usually did before he dished out a generous helping of lecturing.

_The Brotherhood might have a better lead than this insane “let’s poke around the brain of a dead man” idea… or they might tie me down in some pointless feral-killing missions so I can’t leave for ages. Fuck, how should I decide what to do?_ Fox punched the metal railing, causing Nick to jolt in surprise. _Danse promised to help me though. He’s going to make sure I can get enough shore leave to find Shaun. Also, I kind of owe him this, after leaving him in Diamond City like that. Damn, he’s going to be so pissed off._

She let out a small grunt of frustration before turning to Nick who had evidently decided to not poke the angry Vault-dweller before she was ready to talk. “Yeah, that Memory Cave thing will have to wait. I need to check in with the Brotherhood and make sure the Paladin is alright. I shouldn’t have left him in Diamond City without backup, with him being injured and all. So yeah, I’m going to the base and you can return to your office. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Just try to make sure you won’t get kidnapped again while I’m gone, alright?”

The detective chuckled and promised to stay out of trouble. “Do me a favour in return, kiddo.” Fox tried very hard not to be offended by being called a kid, letting Nick finish his thought without interruption. “Be careful, alright? I don’t trust these Brotherhood types, they have too much power and too little supervision. If that fish starts rotting from the head, there’s little anyone can do to stop them from self-destructing and taking down everything around them as they go.”

_Getting warned against a squad of metal men by a screwed up robot… I’m sure there’s a joke somewhere in there._ Fox attempted to give him an encouraging grin that ended up looking more like a grimace than a smile. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll do my best to save the world from total atomic annihilation. I mean from _second_ total atomic annihilation.”

After saying goodbye to Nick, Fox found shelter for the night in the trailer estate they had passed earlier when making their way to the fort. Trying to get to the base in the middle of the night would not have been not worth it, considering her unfortunate habit of attracting every damn mine in the vicinity. Fox very much preferred to remain in one piece. _Though I have no guarantee for that, considering Danse’s reactions the last time I saw him. I swear that one day he is going to get his eyebrows permanently stuck in the scowling state._

The night passed too fast and too restlessly. Not daring to leave the Brotherhood and her empty stomach waiting for too long, Fox set out for Cambridge Police Station as the first rays of sun hit the window of the trailer.

The loud chatter of soldiers and the clanging of power armour alerted Fox to her location before her eyes. Turning around the corner of the station, she was overwhelmed by the amount of activity in the previously quiet courtyard. There were scribes setting up extra defences, some soldiers carrying mattresses to the base, and even guards at the door, fully clad in power armour and wielding miniguns.

One of the knights in front of the building nudged her partner, pointing at the unmistakeable marks of battle surrounding their location. “Suppose that means we missed all the fun. No one’s going to move on this place now that the Prydwen’s in town.”

Striding past them, Fox couldn’t hold back a quip. “You’d better hope so, defending this place from ferals is nasty business.” Anticipating the upcoming question, she added an explanation before the Knight said anything. “I’m Initiate Quinn, newest member of Recon Squad Gladius. Paladin Danse is expecting me. He’s inside?”

Getting the answer she needed, Fox headed past the guards to search for her Paladin. She didn’t have to look far, since Danse noticed her the moment she entered. He finished his conversation with a scribe as Fox waited quietly on the side, not wanting to draw the attention of the squad of newcomers who were busy rearranging everything inside the base.

Fox took a deep breath and prepared herself for the biggest telling off so far, but Danse was positively beaming as he headed over to the Initiate. “The cavalry has arrived and they brought the big guns. Elder Maxson himself came on the Prydwen, so we are ready for anything now.”

Trying to mask her relief, Fox smiled back at her superior. “Yeah, I saw the airship arrive. That’s damn impressive. Though I guess subtlety isn’t a part of the Brotherhood’s arsenal.”

Danse laughed at that. “There’s no need for subtlety if you have the amount of manpower and supplies we do, Initiate.”

_He is like a kid on Christmas morning. Guess he really missed the rest of the Brotherhood. Must have been hell for him, cooped up here with a team of Mister Grumpy, Miss Happy Tinkerer and the damn annoying recruit who got him shot and ended up running away with a synth. Geez, it’s a miracle he still has some sanity left._

Fox didn’t fail to notice that the Paladin was a bit paler than usual and carried his left arm at a stiff angle, but if she hadn’t known he was shot a mere week ago, she would not have guessed it from his appearance. _I knew he was a tough man, but this is some kind of supernatural healing. Lucky bastard, my rat and radroach bites still hurt if I move my leg a bit weirdly._

“Did you hear _anything_ I just said?” A bit of familiar annoyance had crept back in the Paladin’s voice and Fox realised with a start that she had zoned out and ignored him for a while. “Now that you’re done vacantly staring at me,” jabbed Danse at the sheepish expression Fox was bearing, “We have business to attend to. Grab whatever you need and meet me on the roof. We’re going for a little ride.”

“If you’re asking me on a romantic rooftop date, there better be food involved,” retorted Fox with a mischievous grin. Danse did not find it as funny as she did.

“Behave, soldier. …Is that ungodly noise coming from your stomach?” Danse gave her a stern look. “You’ve neglected taking care of yourself again. That is irresponsible towards both you and your squad. Return after you’ve had some breakfast.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” exclaimed Fox with mock enthusiasm and a salute that Danse quickly corrected. “This will still need work. Get out of here, Quinn. Go feed yourself.”

Fox was glad to find Haylen at one of the tables, nearly finished with her meal. A broad smile lit up her face as she noticed Fox approaching her. “Quinn! Come, join me. Saved this seat just for you.”

Wearing a matching grin, Fox took a seat opposite the Scribe and set her tray down. “Liar. You couldn’t have known I’d be back today. Hell, even I didn’t know I’d be back today until I heard the radio transmission.”

“Yeah, about that, where were you anyway?” Haylen took a sip from her glass, eyes fixed on Fox like she was trying to read the answer from her face. “First you disappear with Danse on a mission that was supposed to take a few days tops, then Danse returns with an injured arm and a very bristly attitude – especially whenever I tried to ask what had happened or where you went – and then you waltz in like there’s nothing wrong, except for… is that _brain spatter_ on your jacket?”

Fox gagged slightly, looking at the spot on her clothes that was probably from cleaning the brain piece that she had tucked away in her backpack. _Where have I been? You know, I’ve just been running around, causing an entire metro station of Triggermen to attack me and the Paladin – whose injury is also my fault – and then I pissed him off by siding with a synth and dumping him in a hospital so I could go on a wild goose hunt with said synth and lose my nerve when facing the bastard who killed my husband and kidnapped my son. Same old, same old._

Out loud, she gave a much briefer version of the story. “Uh, I’ve been busy. Top secret mission, had to go undercover.”

“Undercover as an Initiate, huh? Suuuure.” Haylen looked sceptical, but didn’t push the topic further. “Anyway, glad to have you back. It’s been quiet here. Though that shouldn’t be a problem anymore, now that the Prydwen is here. They sent plenty of reinforcements, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. And there’s more to come, so I’ve ordered some Initiates to start clearing the second floor. It’s going to be a proper base instead of a small station for falling back.”

“Sounds great! You’ve been busy here.” Fox set her fork down, swallowing the last mouthful. “I’ve gotta go though, Danse ordered me to meet him on the roof. He didn’t seem to appreciate my joke about rooftop dates. You’re not joining?”

Haylen piled her dishes on Fox’s tray and pulled it to her side of the table. “I’ll take care of these. And no, I have to stay behind to supervise the new scribes sent here.” She gave Fox an apprehensive look. “By the way, be careful on the Prydwen. I know Danse doesn’t demand proper military addressing much in our small squad, but some of the topside officers will definitely not take kindly to your kind of humour. Try not to embarrass Danse, alright? You’re kind of his responsibility since he recruited you, so you being disrespectful reflects badly on him.”

The genuine concern in Haylen’s eyes prevented Fox from cracking any inappropriate jokes. Instead, she promised to behave herself and to remember all the sir-yes-sirs. All of that flew out of her head the moment she had reached the roof with Danse. “Shit, no way! We’re getting in the vertibird?”

“You’ve got a problem with that, Initiate?” Danse’s thick brows were quirked and his mouth twitched in amusement. “Is that above or below rat bites on the list of things you’re afraid of?”

Quinn responded with a snort. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you? But no, not afraid of this one. Please tell me we’re taking the vertibird!” Now it was her time to look like a kid waiting to unwrap presents. “I’ve never flown before and I’ve always wanted to.”

“This is our ride to the Prydwen,” confirmed Danse. “Hop on, I’ll show you how to fasten yourself.” He greeted the pilot and guided the excited Initiate to one of the folding chairs. “Normally you’d be in power armour when riding a vertibird, then you can just hold on to one of the handles.” He pulled down a safety harness and fastened it around Fox. “As that is not an option for either of us at the moment, we’ll use these harnesses. You should hold on to something just in case anyway.”

After checking the harness on Fox, he strapped himself in as well and knocked on the wall. “Ready for take-off!” The pilot nodded and started the engines, making the vertibird roar to life.

Eyes wide with wonder, Fox felt breathless as they lifted off the ground. All worries and faces of dead people faded away. The only thing left was the wind in her face. Without thinking whether it would be a good idea, she got up and pulled her helmet off. Holding on to a handle with one and the helmet with the other hand, she was standing at the opening of the vertibird, hair tousled by the air rushing past her. For a fleeting moment she thanked herself for having the brilliant idea to have her hair chopped short in Diamond City – otherwise the mess would have obstructed her view.

“The Commonwealth looks different from up here, doesn’t it?” Danse’s sudden appearance next to her and the sentence he had to shout over the wind startled Fox, causing her to drop the helmet. It disappeared below them, sending up a cloud of dust as it hit the surface. As Fox was peering down, Danse placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“You really like to throw your equipment at the ground, don’t you?” There was no annoyance in Danse’s voice as he looked at Fox who was mumbling an apology for wasting Brotherhood supplies. “There will be a set of armour waiting for you on the Prydwen, we can get you a matching helmet as well.”

For a few minutes they stood in silence, taking in the ever-changing view from the vertibird. Seeing the full extent of the destruction her hometown had gone through should have been disheartening, but Fox found the scenery beautiful in a strange way. Sure, most buildings had at least partially disintegrated into ruins and so much of the former beauty of Boston was lost, but there were also rebuilt areas and new settlements rising in the middle of this chaos. This new Boston was definitely greener than the pre-war version, with vines and grass everywhere and new trees growing from the ruins of the city. Oddly enough, this sight filled her with hope instead of despair.

“We’re on final approach to the airport. The Prydwen should be coming into view just ahead.” Only when Danse broke the silence, did Fox notice that he had forgotten to remove his hand from her shoulder. She had grown used to the comfortable warmth, not even considering stepping aside or asking him to remove his hand. The realisation gave her an odd shudder.

Feeling the jitter in Fox’s body, Danse removed his hand hastily and coughed. _Guess he feels as awkward as I do. I can understand forgetting though, he’s excited to finally be back on his mothership. Wait, can I call it a mothership?_

After the pilot expertly docked their vertibird with the Prydwen, everyone removed their harnesses and jumped to the metal walkway of the airship. Danse stretched himself, looking more calm and relaxed than Fox had ever seen him be. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been aboard,” he said, looking at the Prydwen with an expression that Fox dubbed as near-adoration in her head. She couldn’t help but smile. _What a giant dork. He must really love being back._

“Alright, soldier.” He turned his attention to Fox, who didn’t even bother hiding her smile. “This is the moment when everything changes. I hope you’re ready.” Fox gave her second mock-military salute of the day, paired with an enthusiastic sir-yes-sir.

Nothing that Danse and Haylen had told her about the Prydwen could have prepared her for this moment. For someone who had never set foot in anything higher than a bell tower, being on a giant airship was hands-down the most exciting thing she had experienced. Fox marvelled at the way this giant metal construction stayed airborne, the functional arrangement of living compartments and working areas, but most of all the way the entire ship was buzzing with life.

Tiny squires were getting instructions from an older man in one area, scientists were working hard at something mystical in the laboratory, the mess hall was crowded with soldiers who were either going to get food, were busy with eating or were just hanging around with others and playing chess or cards. No matter where she looked, there were people all around. It was a refreshing change from her previous experiences in post-war Boston, where bustling life usually meant you were going to be shot at in a moment.

As Danse was proudly giving her a tour of the ship, they kept getting interrupted by people who wanted to greet Danse and share a few words with him. She could see that underneath his calm and collected soldier façade, he was beaming. Fox was reminded of a day a long time ago when a friend showed off her treehouse. Introducing all areas and features of the treehouse, the friend had been infinitely proud of all the work done on it, be it by her or her family members. It was her home and she took joy in sharing the wonders of it with her friend. _I guess this is Danse’s treehouse. Hopefully this one comes equipped with a toilet though._

Their small tour ended at the sleeping quarters. Danse opened a door that led to a room with about a dozen bunk beds. “These are the sleeping quarters for Initiates. Not as private as what we had in Cambridge Police Station, but you’ll get used to it. Besides, you will probably not stay as an Initiate for much longer.” He gestured towards a bed in the back of the room. “I was told that one is free, so store your personal belongings and proceed to the command deck. It is almost time for Elder Maxson’s address.”

Fox felt that she was sticking out like a sore thumb at the gathering on the command deck. Surrounded by people in scribe outfits and Brotherhood soldier uniforms, she was the only one wearing army fatigues from the old world. The only person besides her to be wearing something different was the Elder himself, standing with a firm stance in his big battlecoat in front of the gathering crowd. The sun shining through the giant windows behind Maxson made it difficult to look in his direction. He was more a godly silhouette in the middle of sunrays than a real-looking person.

Once the commotion quieted down, the Elder looked over the crowd and started his address with a booming voice full of pride and certainty. “Brothers and sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively, without question.”

Seeing the formal stances and solemn faces of everyone around her, Fox wasn’t surprised by the _no questions_ part. They looked at their leader with such adoration that she believed they would probably form an orderly line to jump off the airship to their death if he would give such an order.

Maxson’s voice grew even stronger as he continued. “Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission.” He started slowly pacing in front of the windows, gesticulating with a hand curled into a fist. “Beneath the Commonwealth there is a cancer, known as the Institute. This malignant growth needs to be cut before it infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world’s undoing for the second time in recent history.”

He paused, letting the gravity of his message sink in. Fox felt her trigger finger twitching as the Institute was mentioned. _So I’m not the only one hunting those bastards. Getting involved with the Brotherhood may end up working more in my favour than expected._

“The Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb. They call their creation the _synth_ , a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being.”

Fox nearly snorted at that. Nick Valentine, a nuclear bomb? Or those creepy synths they had encountered in ArcJet Systems? Sure, they were all lethal in their own way, but such an ignorant sentence could only have been said by people who hadn’t witnessed atomic bombs themselves. Which would be everyone in the room except her, but Fox wasn’t keen on educating others on that topic.

"The notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous. And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly, it has the potential to render us extinct as a species.” He stepped forward, his face finally properly visible. He seemed young, but the intense look in his eyes and the criss-crossed scars on his face left no question why he was the leader. He had seen battle and grown stronger through it, only gaining determination to rid the world of evil. Whether his definition of evil aligned with the rest of the Commonwealth was questionable, but at least he believed in what he said.

“I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their synths are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost. But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy - itself.” After another pause to emphasise his words, he finished with “Ad victoriam!” Fox joined the chorus of “Ad victoriam!” in response to the Elder so she wouldn’t look like a complete outsider.

The crowd started dispersing, most people fervently discussing Maxson’s message. Fox turned to join them, but was stopped by Maxson’s command. “Initiate Quinn, a moment.” Surprised that her name was known to him, she stood awkwardly to the side to let the others out. Remembering Haylen’s words, she remained respectfully silent and waited to be addressed.

“So, you’re the new Initiate that Paladin Danse recruited.” Maxson looked her up and down until she felt uncomfortable under his stare. “You don’t really look like a soldier. Then again, that was to be expected after seeing Danse’s reports.” _Awesome, my incompetence has been put down in writing. Thanks, boss._ Fox tried not to show her annoyance, but Maxson wasn’t fooled. “Do you have a problem with that assessment, Initiate?”

“No, sir,” clipped Fox in as official voice as she could muster. “I just didn’t know he was mentioning me in reports. Or that the Elder himself would be reading such reports. Hope the contents weren’t too disappointing.”

“Disappointing? No, more intriguing than disappointing. Mostly on the topic of why someone like you would join the Brotherhood. And yes, I do read all reports. It is my duty as the Elder to know what is going on in the Brotherhood and who are the members. I like to have a personal chat with all newcomers to see what they are like. So tell me, Initiate Quinn, what brought you here?”

Uncertain what would be the best answer and how much she should reveal, Fox took a moment to think. “The Institute took someone who is dear to me. They cause pain and suffering, change people into abominations… I don’t know about the big picture, but I know they have destroyed the world for many normal people, taking everything from them. And for that, they need to feel the same suffering these people have gone through.”

“So, out for revenge.” Something had changed in the way he looked at her and Fox had no idea whether that was good or bad. “I hope this will not be your fixation, Initiate. We need to take down the Institute, but this is only one part of the Brotherhood’s work. I need to know you are also capable of dealing with things outside this field.”

“I am, sir.” That response seemed to satisfy him. He gave her a nod. “Alright, soldier. You will remain under Paladin Danse’s command for now and you need to report to him for missions. Dismissed.”

Fox left the command deck, feeling confused and uplifted at the same time. She had made it. She was inside the Brotherhood and the main mission was to take down the very same people who were holding her son captive. The methods of the Brotherhood might not have been what she was used to, but they at least seemed like the kind of people who get things done.

She found Danse in the power armour station, talking to a redheaded woman who seemed less than pleased with what he was saying. Fox had to suppress a chuckle when she realised this was the very same Proctor Ingram whom Danse had been slightly fearing seeing again after blowing up his power armour.

“Paladin Danse,” she greeted politely, barely containing her amusement. “I see you still have your head attached, so Proctor Ingram must be more forgiving than you thought.” As Danse’s eyes widened, Fox cringed inwardly, suddenly remembering her position.

To Fox’s great relief, Ingram laughed. “An Initiate with character, huh? I’m assuming this is your protégée, Danse.”

“Affirmative.” Danse’s stiff stance and humourless voice were a clear signal that he didn’t find the situation as funny as the two women. “I recruited her to help out my squad after our numbers had grown too small to effectively carry out our missions. She is still learning her way around the military culture. My apologies, Proctor.”

Ingram waved her power armour clad arm dismissively. “No need to apologise, it’s nice to see someone with a sense of humour. Something that you are obviously still learning, dear Paladin.”

Fox grinned, though she felt a bit bad for Danse who found this conversation entirely inappropriate. “Oh, I’ve seen him crack a joke before. Twice or so.”

“Clearly I need to ask for those lessons from you, in return for wasting my time trying to teach you about appropriate conduct during field missions,” said Danse dryly. “Proctor Ingram, I will see you later about requisitioning a new suit of power armour. I’m afraid there is a more urgent matter that needs addressing.” Nodding goodbye to Ingram, he gave a pointed look at Fox. “With me, Initiate.”

Fox got a sinking feeling that this _urgent matter_ would not promise anything good for her. She followed Danse wordlessly, trying to keep up with his long strides. Even outside power armour, he still had an unfair advantage over Fox in walking speed.

Having found a quiet place that looked suspiciously much like an interrogation room, Danse ordered her to enter and shut the door behind them. “Sit,” he pointed at one of the chairs at the table. He took a seat on the other side, staring her down in silence until she started fidgeting in her chair. _He’d have made an excellent cop. Damn him, this is so awkward._

“Yet again, we get to the conversation where I have to ask you to explain yourself. This is turning into a pattern, Quinn.” Danse was slowly massaging his left arm as he spoke, making Fox feel even more guilty than before.

“I thought you had started understanding how the Brotherhood works. How you should never knowingly leave behind a brother or sister, especially not alone.” His teeth clicked together and he took a slow breath, anger visibly rising. “So what in the world possessed you to abandon an injured soldier in an unknown location, leaving with someone who is considered to be the enemy of the Brotherhood of Steel?”

“Oh, so Nick is the enemy?” Fox’s eyebrows shot up and she gave a snort. “You’re unbelievable. I get that we’re against the Institute, but he isn’t even a part of it. And yes, I was suspicious as well, but at least I gave him a chance to prove himself. I thought _that_ was what the Brotherhood was about. Isn’t that the very same thing you’ve been doing in my case?”

Danse gave her an inflamed stare. “And clearly I’ve made a mistake.”

That rendered Fox speechless. She knew she had been pushing the limits of what was acceptable and what not, but now she was threatened with losing the progress she had made. She was not ready to be thrown out of the Brotherhood, not when they possessed the manpower to get her to the Institute and get Shaun back.

She lowered her glance, not wanting to look him in the face. “I’m sorry. I do know it was wrong to leave you behind like that. Believe me, it’s been haunting me ever since I snuck off. I knew you would disapprove, but I had a lead on the kidnapper and had to check it before the trail went cold. I couldn’t just let the bastard go. And you might have ordered me to stay in Diamond City.”

She pulled a shaking hand through her short hair, pulling at it at the back of her head. “I shot him. I looked him straight in the eye and I shot the fucker. I couldn’t stand letting him mock me and my family, knowing that he would be getting away with everything and returning to his cushy Institute job. He’s from the Institute, those assholes ordered the kidnapping. And they still have him. He is alive, Danse. I can still get him back.”

Fighting tears, she looked up again to gauge her superior’s reaction. He had his elbows leaning on the desk, forehead scrunching up as he tried to come to a decision about the best course of action.

“Damnit, Quinn.” He looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and empathy. “This cannot keep happening. I am on your side, but I can’t be there if you keep pushing me away and running off to do something crazy. We are supposed to work as a team. I know it can’t be easy for you, having me know your secret. But in situations like this, you can’t keep secrets. You have to discuss things instead of rushing in headfirst and putting yourself in danger.”

Danse sighed. “You’re lucky I had not reported this to the superiors yet. And I won’t, if you promise me that there will be no more secrets. I know the initial agreement was to have you disclose personal information only in situations where not doing so would threaten our missions, but you clearly cannot distinguish between vital and non-vital information. I can help you with getting your husband back, but you have to stop this insubordination and start trusting me. Can you promise me that?”

_Oh god, he still thinks I’m talking about my husband. My poor Nate, he can never be brought back._ She wiped away a tear, embarrassment growing. She had lied so much and omitted even more. How could she erase all that without angering him again?

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to put you in danger. But in all honesty, I cannot promise I will be following every order. If an order clashes with the chances of getting my family back, I will choose my family. Had I executed Nick like you ordered, I still wouldn’t know who was behind all of this.”

Danse was not happy with that result, his annoyance was written in every line on his face. Fox was fully expecting him to threaten her with getting ejected from the mothership, but he nodded instead. “That is a beginning. But Quinn, these conversations can’t keep repeating like this. I may be more lenient due to your situation, but the rest of the Brotherhood does not know about your origin and they will not take kindly to such behaviour. You have to learn how to behave in public and how to address people.”

“That much I can promise,” agreed Fox. “I solemnly swear I will try to behave appropriately in public. But perhaps you can do me a tiny favour in return.”

Danse looked very apprehensive at that request. “What now, Quinn?”

Fox gave a small smile as she stood up. “Nothing big. I’m just not sure what is where on this ship. I got lost thrice when trying to find you. Would you mind showing me to the sleeping quarters again?”

With relief on his face, Danse got up as well. “That I can do. Took me a good while as well to learn the location of everything when I first arrived. But don’t worry, you’ll know your way around soon enough.”

On their way, Fox realised Danse was trying to walk slower for her benefit. That small discovery made her smile. _That’s very sweet of him in a way, especially as he was pissed off at me just a short bit ago. I can kind of see why Haylen is so protective of him._

When they reached their destination, Danse knocked on the doorframe. “Don’t forget to get up at six, there will still be morning workouts. And don’t worry, you’ll get used to sleeping comfortably underneath massive containers of highly flammable gas.”

“Thanks, I hadn’t even considered that last part.” Fox reminded herself at the last moment that playfully punching him in the arm would probably go under inappropriate behaviour in public. “But seriously, thank you. I would not have made it this far without you.” Danse nodded and wished her good night. As she curled up in her new bed, Fox realised something. For the first time since emerging from the Vault, she did not feel alone.


	7. The Stars My Solace

A typewriter smashed into the wall an inch from his head. Danse ducked behind an upturned table, cursing in his mind. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a quick sweep and retrieve operation, but the tech they were after was long gone. The only thing they did find was a super mutant hive. _Damnit. I need a good clean mission with no difficulties and no surprises. Just one good mission, is that too much to ask for?_

He leaned out from cover and shot down the mutant that had been throwing random objects at him after running out of ammo. At least they were on a separate platform, so the abomination couldn’t reach them. Danse signalled Quinn to move towards the stairs. “Get down, I’ll cover you!”

For once, she listened to his order without questioning or downright ignoring it. Danse caught up with her on street level and reloaded his weapon while she kept watch. “I reckon we have a few minutes before they could reach this location,” said Danse, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “We better get a move on so we wouldn’t be here when they do.”

“So we’re retreating?” Quinn didn’t seem to mind that one bit. By now, she was capable of shooting at super mutants without question, but every now and then Danse caught her looking at the abominations with a mixture of sadness and pity. He could only hope that his explanations had worked and this sentiment wouldn’t cause another wave of compassion for these abominations. _Then again, I can’t really fault her for that. She grew up in a different time, I guess compassion was more useful back then than shooting skills._

“Yes, we’re heading back to base.” It pained him to say that, but he had already put them in enough danger for one day. Or a week, for that matter. “This is more than we could handle with two people. I will put in a request for a bigger squad to sweep this area clean.”

Quinn fell into step beside him as they were hurriedly making their way to the agreed pick-up location. “Speaking of bigger squads,” she continued where Danse had ended, “Why were Rhys and Haylen left at the police station when we got assigned to the Prydwen? Wouldn’t it make sense to keep the squad together?” She grinned at him. “I’m missing the hair-braiding sessions with Rhys.”

Despite his annoyance with himself and the mission, Danse cracked a small smile. “Neither of you has much to braid, I’m afraid. As for why the squad was split – we had achieved our main mission in the Commonwealth. Haylen has always loved being boots on the ground and doing field missions more than being on the Prydwen. If you ask me, I think she’s afraid of heights. Rhys and Haylen are usually together on missions, so I saw no need to split them up. And you were my new recruit whom the Elder hadn’t seen yet, so I had to take you with me when I was assigned back to the Prydwen.”

They sat down on a broken wall to wait for the vertibird that was supposed to pick them up in a few hours. Danse stretched his legs, still finding it odd to be out in the open without his metal shell. His new power armour had been ready for a few days, but he had gotten used to not wearing it on missions with Quinn. It was outside his comfort zone, but he had realised it would make him a better soldier if he knew how to conduct missions in different ways. Despite all the problems with Quinn, she was undoubtedly better than him in moving without getting detected, save for a few mishaps. Observing the way she moved around was a great learning opportunity.

While he had been deep in thought, Quinn had spent time fiddling around with her Pip-Boy. Having grown tired of that, she decided to strike up a conversation. "So, are you enjoying being back on the Prydwen?"

"It's like being home again." Though that home was now missing several people who were not there due to mistakes he had made. _Can I still call it a home after getting more than half my squad killed? Am I still worthy of my Paladin rank after the missions I have led in the Commonwealth?_ Feeling the air around him grow heavy, he deflected the topic from himself. "How are you finding your new base? Getting along well with the other Initiates?"

She dropped a pebble, watching it roll downhill in the dust. "The Prydwen is really cool and I'm still amazed by it every day. The other Initiates though… I'm not sure I'm quite clicking with them." She shrugged, looking for a new pebble. "I mean, they're nice and all. But most of them are all about the Brotherhood and have no other interests, which makes for rather boring conversations."

Danse quirked an eyebrow at that, causing her to laugh. "Yes, Danse, you kind of fall under that category as well. Though you at least have some surprises to keep me on my toes, like your inexplicably professional rat-skinning skills."

"So the most interesting thing about me is the speed with which I chop up rats. Good to know." He gave a small smile, seeing Quinn trying to come up with something else to add to that. "No-no, that's fine. I'm a Paladin first, everything else comes far after that. But you should really try to bond with your brothers and sisters a bit more. Knowing the people beside you can mean the difference between life and death on the field."

Quinn snorted, launching another pebble down the hill. "Yeah, I can already see how that will go. I'll just sit down with them during one of those card game evenings and strike a light-hearted conversation about the benefits of not getting frozen. I find it easier to connect with the Scribes, at least we have a common love for taking stuff apart and messing with technology." Seeing the look Danse gave her, she raised her arms in defeat. "Alright-alright! They have another hangout tomorrow evening, I'll pop in and try to socialise."

True to her word, she did put in the effort. Danse had not planned to actually go and check up on her, but he couldn't help hearing her voice as he was passing one of the storage rooms. There was plenty of room on the Prydwen, but it had become a tradition for the soldiers on the lowest rung of the military ladder to gather on the bottom floor of the ship, taking over a storage area for their card games and drinking. Most commanding officers knew it was happening, but as long as the Initiates were sobered up and ready for action in the morning, they didn't make a problem out of it.

Danse was about to go upstairs as he had found the box of ammo he had been after, but hearing Quinn's animated voice made him stop. The fact that the gathering of the Initiates was loud did not come as a surprise to him. What did come as a surprise was what Quinn was saying - or nearly shouting, since she seemed to be drunk beyond recognition.

"The most messed up thing you've seen? Oh none of you will beat me on this one, bitches." There was a slight pause and then the sound of a shot glass being slammed on the table. "I bet none of you have seen your spouse being shot in cold blood and your baby kidnapped while half of you is still a fucking popsicle."

Danse's eyes widened and he nearly dropped the box he was holding. _Her spouse was killed? So she’s not looking for him after all. That would explain her strange reactions when I mentioned looking for her husband. But by steel, that scum of the earth kidnapped her child?_

His free hand curled up in a fist as he stared at the shut door in front of him. Judging by the laughter coming from the room, the others had taken her confession as a joke. Quinn was getting louder, shouting at them for their reaction. "You think it's funny? Well, fuck you all. I bet _he_ thought it was funny as well until I fucking killed him."

 _She's going to regret this. She is going go regret this so badly tomorrow. In more ways than one. Damn it, this might actually break her, having this information out in the open._ Unsure how to act in that situation, he stashed the ammo box in a pocket and finally decided to open the door. The Initiates were sitting around a makeshift table made out of empty crates, though the crates could barely be seen under the mess of empty beer bottles, a few half-empty bottles of stronger liquor, shot glasses and playing cards. The soldiers who noticed the Paladin enter quieted down immediately, causing others to turn around to check what had happened. The only one who didn't react at all was Quinn, swaying on her feet and ranting at others.

"Initiate Quinn!" He put on his best Paladin voice, trying to shake her out of her drunken stupor. She spun around, nearly toppling over.

"Paladin Danse! How pleasant of you to join us!" The smile she had plastered on her face did not reach her eyes. "Oh do feel free to join, I'll even make room for you. After all, you belong here way more than I do. Come, have some fun!"

"I'd rather not," responded Danse dryly. "Quinn, accompany me to the upper floor for a briefing on tomorrow's mission." She rolled her eyes, but made her way to the door, an open bottle of liquor swaying in her hand. Danse had to grab her elbow to keep her upright as they walked towards the stairs. He could hear the room erupt in chatter once they were out of sight. _I can only hope they took her admission as just drunken rambling._

Danse decided to head for the flight deck for some fresh air, since the Initiate next to him was growing greener in her face by the minute. His judgement had been spot on. The moment they reached the railing of the deck, Fox put her bottle on the floor and bent her head over the edge. To make sure she wouldn't topple over the railing, Danse held on to her arm as she was releasing her dinner and all the alcohol into the wind.

When she had finally finished with regurgitating bile, Danse guided her to the wall so they could sit down against it. The flight deck was abandoned at this hour, so it was the perfect place for a talk. She was clutching her bottle again, but not drinking.

"So, disappointed that you’ll still have to see my mug on your missions?" asked Quinn with a sneer, her free hand planted on the floor to stay somewhat upright. "I feel just _so_ damn sorry for you that your application to transfer me to Scribe training wasn’t approved. You must be fucking distraught.”

Danse was stunned into silence. _How does she know? The only person I talked to about this was Maxson and I highly doubt he would have informed Quinn._ Coughing his voice clear, he turned to Quinn who was defiantly glaring at him, alcohol amplifying her already strong emotions. “Who told you?” asked Danse, deciding to own up to his actions.

She let out a short burst of laughter and punctuated it with a hiccup. “Someone should really teach you guys about security on terminals. Takes me ten minutes tops to get into most of them. And gaining access to internal mail from there on is child’s play.”

Anger rising, Danse stared down at her. “You did _what!?_ How long has this been going on?”

“Since my second day here.” She hiccupped again. “Sooo anyway, I was snooping around as usual, trying to find information on the Institute, when a new message popped up. And guess what, it’s the fucking Elder himself! Writing to inform you that you are stuck with me as there’s plenty of Scribes for now and what he needs is more soldiers for when the Brotherhood goes on the offensive. Was a thrilling read, I should say.” She narrowed her eyes at him, an emotion on her face that he couldn’t quite comprehend.

Danse slammed his fist on the metal floor, making Quinn jump with the sudden noise. “After all the talks we have had about respect and appropriate behaviour, you went and betrayed the trust of the entire Brotherhood by hacking into private terminals and accessing information you were not privy to? Have you learned nothing?”

Quinn straightened up, trying to get level with Danse’s eyes. “Oh, you’re telling me about respect? How about fucking respecting me enough to discuss moving me to a different department with… you know… _me!?_ Or did that not occur to you because my opinion counts for nothing? You were so damn eager to get rid of me that you even asked for _immediate_ relocation.” Danse finally realised what the emotion on her face was when Quinn continued, her voice quivering. “I had just started feeling like I had a place here. Was I really that fucking shit that you just gave up on me? Did you even care at all?”

 _Betrayal. She feels betrayed. She put her trust in me and I let her down. This was exactly why I wanted her relocated, but I was too late._ Danse felt deflated, the anger disappearing as fast as it had risen. He slid a hand through his hair, torn over how to explain the situation without causing her more distress. “Quinn, this was not because of you. If anything, I should have put in a word for your promotion. You’ve come a long way since we met at the police station. You have even taught me a lot, both about myself and about how to use some different techniques during missions besides charging in with power armour.”

“Then why?” asked Quinn, eyes now pooling with tears that she tried to furiously wipe away. “Why the fuck would you want to get rid of me like this? I mean, I get that I can be a pain in the ass and I don’t act like a proper soldier all the time, but I’m really trying! It doesn’t come easy to me, following orders.”

“I know, and you’ve made a lot of progress.” Danse sighed. She was not making this any easier for him. “I asked you to be transferred to keep you safe. You get along better with the Scribes anyway and you would be a valuable asset with your knowledge of pre-war technology. Quinn, you’ve already gone through more than one person should ever face. You deserve something better than being stuck with a deadbeat Paladin who makes one mistake after another. People around me keep dying and I can’t take the responsibility of training another Initiate, knowing that the most likely cause of her death would be another one of my miscalculations.”

Quinn’s eyes widened with surprise as Danse reached over and took the bottle from her hand, only to take a swig from it himself. He pulled his knees closer to his body, hanging his arms with the bottle over them. “I did not think you would take this as judgement on your performance. But now that I’ve heard what you said to the Initiates, I’m even more distraught Maxson did not approve your transfer. I’m not sure I could live with myself if you’d get killed on a mission and not get a chance to rescue your child. You are the only one that kid has left.”

Quinn took a few deep breaths, trying to get her eyes to dry up. With that failing, she pulled the bottle back and downed a few big gulps from it. “So, you heard it.” She wiped her mouth dry with a sleeve, looking up at Danse again. “Shaun is my baby. He was nine months old. By now, he could be any age, since I have no idea how long I was stuck in that fucking Vault after he was kidnapped. I might have missed his childhood or his entire life. I’m a stranger to my own child. And my husband is dead.” She took another swig and laughed bitterly. “As fucked up as it is, the Brotherhood might be the only thing I have left. Which makes you and Haylen _my people_. And well, Rhys.”

She hiccupped once more, nearly letting the bottle drop. “If you’re so concerned with my safety, why didn’t you recommend kicking me out of the Brotherhood to finish this once and for all? I mean, surely you didn’t think I’d stop getting in trouble just because you aren’t there to stare me down every time I do something stupid? So why keep me here at all?”

“Because of the bigger picture.” He let his eyes wander over the horizon where the ruins of Boston melted into the dark night sky. The land seemed so peaceful like this. No gunfire, no mutants, no half-starved people stalking around in search for some food. Just the quiet city and the hope that there could be a better future where all ruins would be built up and full of life again. He sighed, trying to find the words to explain this to Quinn.

“Shaun is one child. To you, he is the world. As he should be, he is _your_ kid. But there are so many children out there who have never had a proper childhood. You come from a different time. Here, most kids start working as soon as they can walk and talk. They need to do that to survive. There needs to be someone who looks out for those kids as well. And once you have Shaun back, there is so much you can still do to help those who don’t have a fierce mother turning the world upside down just so they could be safe. As a Scribe, you have a chance to live for a long time and make life better for countless others.”

He felt a nudge on his arm and turned to see Quinn offering him the bottle. “You look like you need it more than I do at the moment,” she said quietly. He accepted the offer and drank a few more sips, the alcohol burning him as it travelled towards his stomach.

“Danse, how would you even know what childhood used to be like?” Her question caught him off guard, colouring his face in a slight pink tint.

“Books.” Seeing her quirked eyebrows, he elaborated. “I used to have access to a surprising amount of books. Most of them were at least partially ruined, but I read what I could, trying to understand the pre-war world and where did humankind go wrong. Childhood was always depicted in such a magical way. Since I didn’t have much of a proper childhood myself, reading that made me sad and hopeful at the same time.”

He gave a small smile, remembering his time as a teenager. “I thought that if this existed in the past, we could bring it back again. That was one of the reasons why I joined the Brotherhood. I want to make the world a better place where at least others would get a chance to have the kind of life I couldn’t experience myself. There has to come a time again where families could be as happy and carefree as they used to be.”

“Never would have guessed you were a bookworm,” jabbed Quinn, but her expression was kind. “Eh, to be honest, I think you have a slightly too romantic view of the pre-war world. My best memories are from when I was _away_ from my family. I spent a lot of time wondering what would it be like to have a father. And whether mothers who actually loved their children truly existed or maybe my friends’ parents were just putting on a show when I was around, like my mother did whenever we were in public.”

She reached for the bottle again and Danse inched it further away from her. “I think you should stop. Not that I’m ordering you to do so – you’re a grown woman and off duty at this moment. But it’s a recommendation. I’ve seen alcohol ruin lives and I’d hate to see you go down the same road.”

Quinn’s laughter was more cold than joyful. “Oh trust me, I know all about it. There’s a reason why I hate alcohol. In fact, this might be the first time I’m drunk.” She grabbed the liquor back from Danse and swung it in the air, toasting an imaginary companion. “To mothers who are goddamn natural disasters and get drunk instead of dealing with their children!”

The peculiar grin on her face was unsettling for Danse to see. He was still trying to find the words to say something, to respond anything to the heart-breaking revelations she was piling on him. Quinn set the bottle on the floor with a shaky hand, still smiling. “Nah, don’t give me these sad puppy eyes. It’s fine, really. She was easier to deal with when drunk. Then I could wait for her to pass out in the living room before I snuck to my room through the window. When sober, she would hear everything and then I’d have to come up with new lies. I had to tell her my grades were worse than they actually were, so she’d believe I was left after class to catch up with homework. She didn’t allow me to visit friends.”

“Why would she do that?” Danse’s brow was scrunched up in confusion. Quinn laughed again, with an empty echo to her voice. “Because she was a fucking control freak, that’s why. She couldn’t deal with her own problems, so she tried to retain some illusion of control over her own life by manipulating every detail of mine.”

She tried picking up the bottle that was nearly empty by then, but ended up knocking it over. Danse pushed himself up from the floor, his muscles stiff and cold from sitting on a metal surface for that long. He cursed when the dizziness kicked in, grabbing the railing for support.

“Hahah, didn’t think you’d be such a lightweight,” cackled Quinn. A brief moment later, she fell to the side as she lost her balance.

“Oh yeah? Look who can’t even sit straight anymore,” mocked Danse back. _By steel, what was I thinking? I have a mission tomorrow. And on that note, so does she. Will she even be in any condition for that?_ He reached out a hand to pull Quinn up as well. The sudden movement had the same effect on her, causing the alcohol in her blood to suddenly hit her head as she stood.

“You okay?” asked Danse, still holding her hand in case she would start falling back. _Great, she’s turning green again. She can’t go to the sleeping quarters in this state._ He guided her gently to the railing and placed her hands on it. “There, just hold on. Let’s get you used to standing before moving anywhere.”

The world seemed to be tilting a bit, so he took hold of the metal railing as well. _I don’t even want to imagine the state she must be in right now._ Quinn didn’t strike up a conversation and he was fine with that. It was oddly pleasant to just stand there and admire the view in the silence. It was a clear night, so he could see all the stars shining down at them. _She might even know the names of some of these. I bet they learned silly things like that in school. The names of stars, ball games, history… they must have had really interesting lessons back then._

Quinn wobbled next to him, starting to lose her footing. She leaned heavily against his side to stay upright and ended up wrapping her arm around his waist for support. Danse let it stay there as he was certain she would end up falling without his help. “Alright, I guess I will have to show you to your room once more. There’s no way you’d make it there on your own.”

Quinn grinned up at him, now with pure drunken whimsy instead of the creepy self-hating smile she had been bearing before. “Ooor you could just carry me to bed.”

Danse snorted at that proposal. “No chance. Stay on your feet, Quinn, and try to sober up a bit.” He shook his head in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. _At least the sleeping quarters are close by, so hopefully not too many people will see her in this condition._ They started slowly moving, Danse half-dragging Quinn along as she stumbled over her own legs. He sighed as he pulled the heavy flight deck door open, Quinn stuck to his side. “This was _definitely_ not in my Paladin training.”


	8. Lonely Walls

Fox stared down at the lumpy pile of porridge on her plate. It had gone cold, but the smell was still strong enough to irritate her nostrils. At least the aroma didn't make her feel as nauseous as the mash, which would have been her second option. As bland as razorgrain porridge tasted, it was still considerably better than 200 years old tinned food. _What did they put in these anyway to keep them from going off?_

Staring at her food didn't really fill her stomach. Fox attempted to continue eating, but swallowing even a small bite was difficult. The taste and the texture just didn't work at all. She might as well have been trying to force down some mirelurk goo. The sound of her spoon clinking on the edge of the plate made her groan, eyes narrowing in pain. The mess hall was starting to fill up and the rising chatter closing in around her was not helping her situation.

_Sonofabitch. What the hell did I do yesterday? I know Danse removed me from the gathering at some point, but what did we talk about?_ She grabbed her glass for a sip of water, careful to keep the hand steady. At least water went down without any problems, even though it felt odd as her mouth seemed to be coated with an unknown substance. _Did I throw up? Oh hell no, this is gross. I am gross. Everything is disgusting._

She massaged her temples for a bit to ease the pain, but even that didn't help much. Feeling like she was pulling information from a vat of fog, she tried to piece together the images from last night. _Wait, did I drink with Danse? What the hell, I don't even know if I can trust my memories. He doesn't drink. Does he?_

Slowly, more pieces of the puzzle got pulled from her muddled memories. They confused Fox more than they helped, since most of them seemed plain absurd. Trying to remember how she got to her bed made her sit up straight with shock as the memory appeared. _I invited him to bed with me? Danse? My fucking Commanding Officer?_ She felt her cheeks growing red in embarrassment. _Oh dear lord. This is so bad. Fuck. How did I get that wasted?_

A tray being placed on the table made Fox look up, wincing from the noise. Danse took a seat opposite her, looking almost as bad as she felt. "Morning, Initiate."

_Shit. Fuck. How do I even talk to him after embarrassing myself like that?_ "I'm sorry," she blurted, not managing to engage her inner filter before the words came out. His questioning glance made Fox continue, her voice coarse and low. "I mean I'm sorry for you bed with me. Uh. That is…" She rubbed her temples, trying to formulate a proper sentence. _Jesus fucking Christ. What is wrong with you, woman?_ "I'm…"

_Brain. Words. Come on._ To her great dismay, the best she could come up with was giving Danse a blank goldfish-like stare, mouth slightly open in her utter embarrassment. He was waiting for her to finish the sentence, eyebrows drawing into a deeper frown by the second, but Fox's brain seemed to have shut down.

Since nothing happened, he leaned closer as to avoid everyone hearing his question. "Are you still drunk?" Fox responded with a continuing empty stare. _Jesus, this is like trying to make a reluctant puppet move. Why do I feel like it's not even me sitting here? Maybe I'm just someone else observing this scene. I can't be this pathetic._

Danse slid a hand over his forehead and let out a sigh. "Don't go anywhere. Just… drink your water, alright?" Fox didn't even bother trying to check where he was going. She leaned her head on top of her arms on the table, the world tilting around her. She wasn't sure how long she had been there when Danse reappeared in her line of vision.

"Get up, soldier." She hesitated, giving him a quizzical look. Though it may have also been a "I want to throw up" look, considering how awful she felt. "You heard me, get up," repeated Danse with a note of impatience. She groaned and pushed herself up from the table.

"I haven't eaten though." _Awesome, an actual sentence. Well done, fuckhead._ She blinked a few times, trying to will the mess hall to stop turning around her. It had no effect.

"And by the looks of it you won't be eating that porridge anyway. Take your tray to the collection point and meet me at the door." He stepped aside to let her pass, an expression on his face that Fox couldn't quite read. She decided protesting would be futile and she did as he had commanded.

Danse was waiting for her in the corridor, balancing his tray on one hand. She followed him wordlessly, wondering where they would be going. Their destination turned out to be the sniper balcony near the mess hall. It was small, but had sufficient room for both of them to sit down and place the tray between them.

"So, is this the romantic rooftop date you were supposed to organise at the police station?" Fox regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. _Damnit, idiot. You only just finished apologising for yesterday's blunder. Stop trying to embarrass your commanding officer. This is exactly why you would deserve to be kicked out of the Brotherhood._

To her great relief, Danse decided to ignore her joke. "I figured you would need some fresh air. The flight deck is a bit too populated at this hour, we would get in the way." He pushed the tray in her direction. "Here, try to eat some bread. It's just plain slices with salt, should be easier to handle than the grub you had loaded your plate with."

"Thank you." Before taking a slice, she slid her legs through the holes in the railing around the balcony. It didn't help her dizziness, but the feeling of her legs freely dangling in the air felt good in a different way. For a moment, she felt weightless. The only things that existed were the fresh morning air, the rising sun and the dry yet perfectly edible razorgrain bread. And the throbbing headache.

She took a sharp breath in and grabbed her head with a free hand. Danse responded by taking a small plastic jar from his coat pocket and offering her a pill from there. "Technically I'm not supposed to do this, but I'm pretty sure you are too stubborn to go to Knight-Captain Cade and admit that you have a raging hangover."

Fox took the oval pill between her fingers and twirled it around. "What is this?"

"Cade prescribed me some for my headaches." Danse took another pill for himself and swallowed it with a generous gulp of water. "Here, I brought a glass for you as well."

"This is actually… really sweet of you." She took her pill and reached for a new slice of bread. _Infinitely better than the porridge._ "Why are you being so nice to me though?" She took a bite and frowned a bit as she was chewing. Forgetting table manners, she continued with food in her mouth. "I mean, I was a complete ass. I hacked into private terminals and got wasted out of my mind and the only thing you do is to be kind to me. Why would you?"

Danse didn't respond for a while, taking time to finish his slice first. "It would be of no benefit to report you." He turned towards her with a serious look. "I believe you already got your punishment in the form of finding information you did not want nor need to see… and the hangover as well. I do have to warn you though that if I ever catch you doing this again, I will have to inform Captain Kells. He will not be as forgiving."

Fox furrowed her brow and stared down at the floor. _There's still something that doesn't make sense. I feel like he's letting me off hook way too easily._ She rubbed her forehead in a furious motion, trying to release the tension that was building up inside her skull. Another memory from the previous night reappeared, connecting the dots in her head.

"Are you forgiving me so many things because you feel bad about your own mistakes?" As he turned his face away, Fox knew she had hit the nail on the head. Without thinking, she leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "Danse. Look at me."

The pained look on his face made her wish she hadn't said that. It hurt her to see a strong person like Danse broken down like this. "Shit. I mean, sorry. Damn." She shook her head to get rid of the world spinning again. "Danse, you are a great leader and anyone would be honoured to be on your squad. You have taught me so much since I joined the Brotherhood and you keep giving me hope every time I feel like giving up on everything."

Fox felt an urge to shake him, to make him see how ridiculous he was being with all that self-hate. She had selfishly been soaking up all the compassion he had to give, offering no support in return. Instead, she had been continuously putting him in difficult situations, forcing him to make calls he didn't like. Making him choose between getting his squad member written up for disorderly conduct or forgiving her careless behaviour over and over again was not fair towards him. The guilt that was suddenly washing over her felt almost unbearable.

She raised her eyes again to meet his, her voice quiet and gentle. "Seriously, don't you ever think you are a hazard to people around you. Without you, I would have been dead long ago. And if I happened to be blown up on a mission, that would be a hundred percent my fault. You know I am fully capable of being that stupid on my own, that would definitely not be your doing."

Danse looked like he wasn't believing a word she was saying, so Fox had to play her trump card. "You know, with all the stuff you think you have done to the people under your command, how come they still pretty much idolise you?" She smiled, recalling her last day in Cambridge Police Station. "For real, Haylen made me pretty much swear to be nice to you before we left for the Prydwen."

Fox started to feel odd about leaving her hand on his shoulder for so long, even though Danse didn't seem to mind. She drew her hand back and used it to tuck a stray chunk of hair behind her ear. "She really cares for you, you know. And I can see why. You are a pretty damn awesome guy. When you're not pissed off at me for stuff." She smirked, not managing to hold back a bad joke. "Or of course it might also be that everyone under your command suffers from Stockholm syndrome."

"Tockholm syndrome?" The sheer confusion on his face made Fox laugh.

"No, Stockholm. You know, the…" She paused, realising the explanation would take longer than it would be worth. "Nevermind. Stupid joke." She started taking another slice of bread, but paused as she saw it was the last one. "Want this one, Danse?"

He shrugged and went for water instead. "No, go ahead. I packed myself some for the road, can't really eat much at this point."

As he was drinking, Fox paid closer attention to his face. She had definitely drunk a lot more, so why was he looking worse than her? The bags under his eyes did not look healthy. It wasn't the first time she had noticed his apparent lack of sleep, but it always seemed a bit too bold to ask him about it.

She had just geared herself up to ask Danse why he doesn't sleep properly, but he interrupted her intentions by getting up. "We should start going." He reached down to take the tray and sniffed the air with a frown. "What's that sm- …Quinn, I recommend a shower before heading to the mission. I believe you should be able to stand now. Meet me on the flight deck as soon as you're ready."

Fox blushed crimson in embarrassment. "I did mean to go showering, but I could barely drag myself out of bed. I'll just… Yeah, I'll go and do that." Standing up still didn't feel pleasant, but at least the painkillers Danse had shared with her were working their magic. Her cheeks felt hot, but that was quickly fixed by the shower.

The warm water felt so pleasant on her aching body that she could barely force herself to turn the shower off. Reporting for duty, she looked almost like a soldier ready for a mission, save for the mildly green look on her face and a mess of wet hair that she had no time to dry. But that would have to do.

The vertibird dropped them off next to a radio tower as that was the easiest landing spot near their target location. Fox wasn't entirely sure what they would be finding in the bunker they were heading towards. The satellite array that had cost Danse his power armour had been cleared out by a bigger squad and the report from their mission had been all but pleasant. Field Scribe Faris had been found in the middle of the super mutant nest, a distress signal emitter next to his lifeless body. He had managed to record a message for Paladin Brandis, who had evidently never made it back to his last remaining squad member.

Painfully aware of their limited range of view in the valley they were walking through, both soldiers remained silent. The high cliffs on the sides were guiding them towards the bunker's location. Danse looked towards the right and Fox kept an eye on the left side, looking out for any surprises that might descend upon them.

Something on the ground reflected sunlight into Fox's eyes, disorienting her for a moment. She grabbed Danse's arm to hold him back. "Over there," she said in a hushed tone, pointing towards the object with her free hand. Danse squinted as he looked in the indicated direction.

"We're lucky that it's dry and the wind has blown some of the covering soil off," said Danse after identifying the object as a mine. "Good catch." The next ten minutes were among the most nerve-racking times Fox had experienced in weeks. Determined to make Fox a better soldier, Danse taught her how to disarm a mine and even salvage some components for the Brotherhood to use.

Watching his fingers nimbly at work, she couldn't help but wonder how many times had he done that before. _Considering his survival skills, he was probably from an army family. He looks way too young to have picked up all these techniques only during his own service time._

Fox was very tempted to ask him about his childhood, but that was definitely not the right time for such discussions. She stashed that question away for a later time. _Nobody here knows as much about me as he does, so it's only fair to find out some more about him in return. Hm, is that the bunker?_

Danse's next words confirmed her thoughts. "Recon Bunker Theta. Haylen identified that as a possible fallback point soon after our deployment to the Commonwealth." He had his weapon at the ready as they approached the sandstone building. "We should be careful," said Danse. "We have no idea whether Paladin Brandis is still alive and what condition he might be in. Don't let your guard down."

The entrance was locked, with no keyhole in sight. While Danse looked for alternate entrances, Fox tried her luck with the console next to the door. She smirked to herself as her fingers danced across the keyboard. This was too easy. _I could probably do this in my sleep by now. You'd think that when people buy consoles, they do some research about known security holes and patch them. But no, it's almost like they are inviting people to enter._

"I'm in!" Celebrating her success, she was louder than intended. _Crap. Whoever is in there is probably alerted to our presence by now. Well done, doofus._ She stayed behind Danse's bigger frame as the door opened, revealing the worn-down insides of the bunker. Her assumption had been right; the inhabitant of the bunker was hiding behind an improvised barrier and pointing a heavily modified weapon at the entrance.

"One more step and I'll… I'll…" The stranger hesitated, trying to find the words. "I'll blow your damn heads off!" His eyes were darting between the two soldiers, the gun following suit. He tried to appear menacing, but the look in his eyes reminded Fox more of a scared animal than anything else. His patchy grey beard sprawled over the chest of his combat armour that was showing faint outlines of Brotherhood of Steel insignia.

Danse was cautiously grasping his rifle, careful not to point it directly towards the other man. "Paladin Brandis?" He acquired a haunted look when Brandis started shouting at him, demanding the intruders to identify themselves. "It's Danse. Paladin Danse. Don't you recognise me?"

The lines on Brandis' face deepened. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinising the people in front of him. "Danse? No. No-no-no, that can't be. Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

"I was dispatched to the Commonwealth on a recon mission after it became evident that Recon Squad Artemis had gone off the radar." Danse took a step closer, his hand still on the rifle. "We came to find you, Paladin."

"What about the rest of my team? Did you find them? I've been alone, so alone." The glint of hope in his sunken eyes hurt Fox, knowing that they were about to destroy it. She had been only observing until that point, but she could not let Danse answer that one.

"They're dead, Paladin." She tried to make her voice as gentle as possible to soften the blow. "We followed their distress beacons, but there was nothing we could have done by then. They all died heroic deaths, taking down scores of enemies with them. We took their holotags to the Prydwen."

"The Prydwen is here?" Brandis recoiled and raised the weapon that he had lowered during Fox's explanation. "Did you come here to take me back?"

Fox was startled by the sudden spike of anger in his voice. Seeing she didn't know what to answer, Danse took over. "You're still a member of the Brotherhood, Paladin. Your knowledge of the Commonwealth would really help in our mission. Come back with us."

"I can't go back!" Brandis retreated even further, pointing his gun at Danse now. "You can't make me go back! I'm not a Paladin anymore. I don't deserve to be in the Brotherhood. No. I can't do it! I'm not worth it, not after what I allowed to happen to my squad. It's my fault. All my fault. Just leave. Leave and don't return."

_Oh for the love of god. Is this kind of shit a requirement for becoming a Paladin?_ With courage she didn't know she even possessed, Fox took a few long strides closer to Brandis, a scowl plastered on her face. "Now listen to me and listen to me good." She pointed a finger at the Paladin as if it would be a match for the laser rifle he was carrying. "You cut this crap right here and now! Did you make mistakes? Definitely. Is it fucking horrid to know that the people you cared about have died? Yes, of course it is! But the moment you start thinking that you should be living your life in this damn bunker as a hermit, you are disgracing the sacrifices your fellow soldiers made so that you could live."

She stepped even closer, the muzzle of his weapon nearly touching her chest. "If you give up now, you are going to make their deaths meaningless. If you stay here, the loss of their life will be worthless, because you are throwing away the days they gave for you to go and make life better for others. Is this really how you want to remember your squad? Or do you want to go and make their sacrifice worth something? It's up to you to remember them now. It is your job to do what they can't anymore."

Brandis' resolve was melting away under her barrage of words. Seeing him crumple to the ground, Fox felt guilt take over. That was not the result she had been hoping for. She kneeled down in front of the Paladin, regret on her face. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say all of this. It's just that I usually give myself this kind of pep-talks when I feel like giving up. I've lost people as well. Almost everyone I've ever cared about is dead. So I need to be harsh with myself to keep going. I can't just give up, knowing that I'm the last person who can keep their memory alive."

She looked at her lap, unsure what else she could say to make things better. Brandis put his rifle on the ground, the madness in his eyes slowly fading away. "You have nothing to be sorry about." His voice still sounded like he was getting used to using it again. "You were right to tell me this. I am their last link to this world and I can't let them fade away. I must tell of their bravery." He glanced up towards Danse, who had been standing nearby with his weapon at the ready. "I will return to the Prydwen with you."

He clambered up from the floor, a hint of humour in his eyes now. "As long as you don't tell the others how I got talked down by a Knight, that is." He extended an arm to Fox to help her up as well. She was glad to see Brandis starting to sound normal. She could almost see the soldier that Danse had told her about – the man who always knew what to say and how to defuse situations.

"Thanks." She dusted off the back of her trousers after Brandis pulled her upright. "Not a knight though. Initiate Quinn, at your service."

"Initiate, huh? Even worse." He gave them a toothy grin. Or at least mostly toothy. _I guess toothpaste was a limited commodity when stuck in a bunker… Poor guy, he must have gone through hell. Being alone for so long can't have been easy._

"We will give you some privacy to pack your things. Initiate Quinn and I will wait for you by the creek." Danse nodded at the other Paladin and ushered Fox out. In her nervousness over the mine and the excitement of hacking the terminal, she had not noticed the small creek to the right of the bunker. Using the chance to rest her legs, she sat on a patch of grass near water. Danse joined her, though with his rifle at hand. He was always more cautious when they were away from the base and Fox couldn't really blame him for it.

"I'm sorry, I should not have blown up at Paladin Brandis like that." She found some pebbles and started dropping them in the stream to avoid looking at Danse. "I didn't even mean to do that, but I saw myself in him and seeing that angered me." She launched another pebble, splashing some water on her legs. "I guess there are more people in the Brotherhood with similar issues."

Danse gave her a wry smile. "If you're hinting at me, I got that. I thought that tirade was actually addressed at me, before you said it was one of your own pep-talks. You're too hard on yourself though. If you can berate me for not handling losing my squad well, I can tell you the same about your family. You did the best you could. And you are still continuing. That's all anyone could hope for."

"I guess I do suck at addressing my superiors appropriately," said Fox, returning his smile. "But yeah, I think that speech would work in your case as well. You really have to start letting that guilt go at some point. Of course ignore that advice if you would actually _like_ ending up as a sad hermit living in a bunker."

"Oh, that's rich. Mockery from the woman who smelled like regurgitated alcohol mere hours ago." Danse had no offence or malice in his voice, but his deadpan delivery made Fox cringe. He noticed her embarrassed expression and tried to amend the situation. "I apologise, that was not kind of me. And before you go worrying about it – you smell just fine, Initiate."

Fox snorted with laughter at that. _Now this was definitely something I did not expect to hear from him._ "I think we should just change the topic. To something that is _not_ connected to my unfortunate drinking mishap or my tendency to overstep boundaries."

"So, silence it is." Danse's jab made her laugh again. She still felt slightly beaten up due to the toll drinking had taken on her body, but it was surprisingly pleasant to sit there with him. It felt good to be able to let go and speak your mind without paying too much attention to censoring herself. And from what she could gather, Danse wasn't too opposed to spending time with her either. He even looked almost relaxed for a change.

"All ready to go!" Brandis interrupted her inner monologue by showing up with his bag packed and weapon in hand. He looked a bit hesitant, but that was to be expected after being away from the Brotherhood for that long.

"Let's get a move on then." Danse got up and gave the other Paladin an encouraging nod. "Time to go back home, Paladin Brandis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I may have enjoyed writing about Fox's hangover and embarrassment just a tiny bit too much. But hey, she's getting better at that "addressing her superiors" business! Except for when she is shouting at them or telling them off. Whoops. At least Danse is starting to mock her as well, so it's not one-sided anymore.


	9. Keep A-Knockin'

It was porridge day. _Again_. Danse sighed and headed for the end of the line of counters to load his tray with slices of razorgrain bread. _If only there were some meat to have with it… could almost have a normal breakfast._ He loved being on the Prydwen, but feeding an entire ship with meat was undoubtedly more difficult than providing a small squad with it. Danse couldn’t blame the mess sergeant for not undertaking that endeavour, but that didn’t make porridge any more pleasant for him.

As he was looking for a place to sit, Paladin Brandis waved at him to signal he had a free seat. Brandis had not been cleared for field duty, so the most exciting parts of his day were mealtimes where he could tell stories. This meant there was usually a mixture of Scribes, Squires, Initiates and even Knights trying to score a seat at the table Brandis had claimed as his own by now. At this hour though, the table was still empty, save for the Paladin himself. _I guess he can’t sleep either. No wonder, after what he’s been through._

“Morning, Paladin,” greeted Danse as he set down his tray opposite Brandis.

“Morning, Paladin,” echoed Brandis with a grin. “Still not a fan of porridge, I see.”

Danse took a seat, a wry smile on his face. “An astute observation. I’m afraid I got more than a lifetime’s worth of that in my early childhood. Never been able to stomach porridge after that. Tastes like disappointment and empty dreams.”

“Ah, now that I can understand. I can’t stand mole rat meat, no matter how well it’s prepared.” Brandis helped himself to a big spoonful of porridge. Even seeing the sticky texture made Danse feel a bit ill. How anyone could enjoy eating that was beyond him.

“So, what are your plans for today?” enquired Brandis, looking eager to get information about something that wasn’t food or therapy sessions. “Some exciting missions ahead?”

“Depends on how Quinn does on her Knight Exam.” Danse smiled as he said the term Quinn had given her current task. After being promoted to a Knight, she needed to go through some additional training that came with the rank. She had jokingly started calling it her Knight Exam. Danse didn’t have the heart to tell her that the theoretical part was only the beginning and the true test would come after she passes Ingram’s quizzing.

“Oh yes, I was helping her cram for it yesterday. She really takes it seriously. I think she actually likes it!” Brandis grinned. He took another heaped spoonful of porridge and washed it down with water before continuing. “She’ll make a fine Knight.”

“I still think she would suit being a Scribe better,” said Danse with a sigh. “She is excellent with technology and the way she dived into the theoretical material makes me even more convinced that she would be really happy with Scribe duties. But she seems hell-bent on staying on the military side. Unfortunately, Maxson shared that opinion.”

“Is that a note of discontent on the Elder’s address?” Brandis seemed amused by that. “And here I was thinking that he could do nothing wrong in your eyes.” He paused to wave at a Knight that had entered the mess hall. “But I do get what you mean. I’ve noticed how she usually steers for the Scribes’ company instead of her fellow soldiers’. Give it time though and I’m sure she will get used to the military side. I’m guessing she didn’t have much contact with military organisations before ending up here. It all takes time.”

“I’m mostly worried about her trying too hard to fit in and crossing her own borders.” Danse grimaced, remembering her disastrous attempt to bond with fellow Initiates. She could count herself lucky though. The poor Knight who had been on guard duty in the airport that evening had no idea who had been the culprit who ruined his night. The Scribes who had been tasked with cleaning his power armour had expressed their anger with such colourful language that Danse couldn’t even understand all of it.

“I guess you’re talking about explosives training,” said Brandis with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, there’s been very few actual casualties during that.”

Danse groaned. “Thank you, I had forgotten about that part.” _Great, having Quinn around large amounts of explosives is exactly what is needed. Here’s hoping her school had lots of ball throwing games._

After breakfast, he had almost two hours before he was supposed to be at the power armour station. He used the time productively, catching up on the last bits of reports that needed revising and filing away. Paperwork was considered the worst part of being a Paladin by most, but Danse enjoyed the calm routine of writing and categorising. Writing reports could never beat field missions, but it was a relaxing interlude to being shot at.

When he reached Ingram’s station, the Proctor was nearly done with quizzing Quinn on the parts and functions of power armour. The freshly appointed Knight was answering questions with the kind of confidence and pride that Danse had not seen in her before. _Who knows, maybe my assessment was wrong and she will enjoy being a soldier after all._

“You’ve got an all-clear from me.” Ingram gave the Knight an approving nod. “Only minor mistakes, but nothing outside the acceptable limits. You have clearly done your homework. Ah, and your sponsor is here as well. Paladin Danse, I believe Quinn is ready for the practical training now.”

“Outstanding.” Danse allowed himself a smile. “Thank you, Proctor. Quinn, I believe it’s time you finally received your personal set of power armour. You have earned the right to use it.”

Ingram pointed down the corridor that led to personal armour stations. “Quinn’s is the last one on the right, just go back to the very end. It received its finishing touches only last night, I finally managed to fix the hydraulics. May it serve you well, Knight.”

Quinn was positively beaming. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate the work you’ve put into that. I will do my best to… um… not have it blown up.”

That earned a snort of dry laughter from Ingram. “Considering who your sponsor is, I don’t have very high hopes for that. Then again, you actually know your way around technology. So perhaps you’ll give me a positive surprise. Off you go now, enjoy it.”

Finding Quinn’s station was easy. It was the only one that was still completely empty, save for the suit of power armour itself. All other stations were at least partially littered with cleaning equipment, wrenches and scraps for repairs.

Danse was amazed this kind of disarray was even allowed; usually leaving even one tool around was grounds for punishment or at least a stern talk from Ingram. _I guess there are bigger issues to tackle right now, like the mission Ingram is dealing with. I’m still not sure what could warrant such levels of secrecy, but it must be something big to make her relax on the rules to this extent._

“So this is it.” Danse stood in front of the suit of armour, feeling a strange sensation of pride. “I am almost jealous. The first time you step in power armour is something special that you will remember forever.”

“What was your first time like?” asked Quinn with a curious look. She suddenly recoiled and turned slightly pink. Danse was confused by that, but he decided to do what he usually did when Quinn acted strangely – ignore and hope it goes away.

“Felt like I could take on the world. It’s an incredibly powerful feeling. Like everything, it should be approached with caution though. That feeling can turn against the wearer, since some soldiers get too confident and start overestimating the capabilities of both themselves and the armour.”

“If it’s anything like flying, I can totally see why it could start feeling like that.” Quinn slid her hand over the metal surface of her armour set, fingers following the curves of the chest plate. “It’s like a tank. I will probably feel absolutely tiny inside this.”

“Ingram has taken that into account.” Danse stepped behind the armour and turned the valve to open it. “Look in here. You can use these straps to either tighten the fit of the armour or loosen it if it gets too constrictive. She already adjusted it to your height, working on estimations. You will probably have to make some personal adjustments and fine-tune it to your liking, but this is a start.”

He showed Quinn how to step in and how to get the armour to shut and open from the inside. She followed all instructions with the kind of curiosity he hadn’t seen for a long time. It was heart-warming to finally see her taking something seriously, without cracking jokes about military procedures.

“Alright, soldier. Ready for this?” Danse took a step back to give Quinn room. That was her moment, he could only stand aside and feel proud for his student’s progress.

She took hold of the handles inside the armour and pulled herself up to place her feet in the right place. Her body aligned with the metal limbs, she triggered the closing mechanism. Danse stood aside with the helmet, ready to help if needed.

She was getting used to the metal extension of her body, reaching out her arms to test their movement. She looked at her hands in wonder, the metal fingers closing in a fist and then stretching out.

“So, how does it feel?” asked Danse. Quinn made a non-committal noise.

“Not sure. It’s certainly not flying, but it’s also not entirely unpleasant.” She proceeded with testing the legs, lifting her left foot and letting it back on the floor with a bigger thump than intended, judging by the cringe that followed.

Danse smiled. It always took new Knights a bit of time to get used to the power increase. “Just wait until you go flying _with_ power armour. Now that’s pure enjoyment. Alright, let’s get you used to the helmet as well. You can do the honours yourself.”

He handed the helmet to Quinn, who attempted to flip it in the air like she had seen Danse doing. He caught it before it reached the floor. “You’ll need to practise that a bit more,” he chuckled as he returned the helmet to her. “Just put it on for now. When you hear the click, you know it has attached properly.”

She put the helmet on, shuffling it from side to side for a moment before it clicked onto the rest of the suit. _Looks like a proper soldier. Until she opens her mouth, at least._

“Alright, give me a moment to suit up and we can head to the airport for the training. Or you can follow me already and try to get used to walking without shaking the entire floor.” It took him less than a minute to locate his set of armour and get settled in. Quinn had fallen quiet, but he assumed she was getting overwhelmed by the new sensations. First few times in power armour were like learning to walk again, with so many new things to take into account and get used to.

They took a vertibird down to the airport. Danse knew that some soldiers had tested jumping from the Prydwen to the ground, but that was generally frowned upon as the shockwave tended to knock things over. As this was Quinn’s first time in power armour, he was definitely not about to encourage such endeavours. She could practise airdrops in a less inhabited area and preferably from a lower height.

“There is a shooting range set up just outside the base,” said Danse as he walked through the airport field, Quinn clunking next to him. “It’s the perfect place to get used to weapon usage in power armour. It’s nothing overly complicated, but it takes a bit of practice.”

They took their position at the shooting range that had a few Initiates practising without power armour a bit further away. “Since adapting to the increased strength takes some time, this training will be with weapons provided for the range,” explained Danse, showing her the normal rifle he had picked up. “Using our laser weapons would be a terrible waste as replacing those is several times more costly.”

He took a test shot at one of the targets to make sure they were not set up too far for basic practise. As the gunshot boomed through the air, Quinn clambered a few steps back, nearly toppling over. She started pulling at her armour, muffled sounds coming from the helmet.

“Quinn?” Danse lowered the rifle and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

She twisted the helmet, trying to pull it off. “Get me out! I need to get out. Out. I want to get out, I need to get out.” Her frantic rambles were getting faster as she struggled with her armour, evidently having forgotten how to open it.

Danse dropped the weapon and rushed to her, worrying that something had gone very wrong inside her suit. “Quinn, I can’t open it. It’s a safety measure; you can only open it from the inside when someone is in the suit.” She was still twisting around and repeating that she needed to get out. Danse had to increase his voice. “Quinn, listen to me! The switch is at your left hand. Use the switch!”

Just as Danse was about to go ask someone to help get her out, the suit opened with a hiss. Quinn exited so fast that she nearly tumbled as she pulled her head out of the helmet. Danse had seen her cry before, but not with this kind of haunted look. She didn’t even seem to register her surroundings as she crumpled to the dusty ground.

Danse exited his power armour to squat down beside her. “Quinn?” No response. _What the hell happened to her?_ “Quinn, talk to me. Did the armour do anything to you? Are you hurt?”

She was breathing heavily, trying to control the panic that had evidently taken her over. Danse gave her time to gather herself, unsure how he could help. Finally, she drew a shaky breath, wiped her face of tears and looked up at him.

“I’m so sorry.” She sounded horrified, but still tried to smile. “I… I have no idea what happened. It just got kind of cramped in there and felt like I couldn’t breathe properly. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you like this.”

“Never mind that,” said Danse, the lines on his forehead growing deeper. “Are you alright? I will have Ingram double-check your suit to make sure there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Quinn started to look embarrassed. “No-no, there’s nothing wrong with the suit. Don’t bother her with that. I just freaked out a bit, that’s it. Not used to such tight places.”

 _She is lying. This is definitely not just_ slightly _freaking out. Damnit, Quinn, when will you start trusting the people around you?_ Danse felt his frustration rise. “If there is something going on that could affect your field performance, you are obligated to inform your superior of it. If you really feel uncomfortable doing that, you have to at least go to Knight-Captain Cade and seek help from him. Being a martyr helps no-one.”

“I’m fine,” snapped Quinn, now visibly annoyed. “Just drop it, will you?”

Danse’s eyes narrowed at her. “I don’t appreciate your tone, _soldier._ If you’re feeling so fine, prove it. Get back in the power armour and let’s finish this training session.”

“Fine!” Quinn pushed herself up with a sharp move and hoisted herself back inside the set of armour. She hesitated for a while, making Danse think she was about the change her mind, but eventually she flicked the switch to shut the suit around her.

“What do I have to do?” Her voice came out a bit forcedly, but she managed to keep it level. Danse handed her the rifle he had dropped earlier.

“You have to hit the middle target ten times in a row. Then I’ll let you off for lunch.” He stood to the side, one hand clasping the other’s wrist behind his back. _This should be interesting._

He gave her one thing, she was determined. The amount of swearing was on a steady increase over the next few hours, spiking up every time she botched the seventh or eighth shot of an otherwise perfect series. These were rare though, as she usually had to start over after only two or three shots, sometimes missing the target by an embarrassingly wide margin. Even though she had never been a particularly good shot, failures of this level were novel for Danse to see.

He stood there wordlessly, not interrupting or even offering advice. By this point, the exercise was not about her proficiency with a rifle anymore. It was about seeing whether she could accept needing help and having to face her problems. So far the results had not been overly promising. Danse was beginning to fear they might stay there until sundown.

His estimation wasn’t overly off the mark. The sun was getting close to the horizon by the time Quinn managed to reach the goal. She nearly broke the rifle as she threw it to the ground after her last shot.

“Breaking equipment on purpose can earn you a weekend of peeling tatos,” warned Danse with a frown. “Pick up your weapon, soldier, and return it to the shooting range lockers. You are dismissed for today.”

“Sir-yes-sir.” That was the first thing Quinn had said to him since he had given her the orders for target practice. He couldn’t see her face due to the helmet, but that was perhaps a good thing at that point.

The rest of her power armour training followed a similar pattern. She would get visibly upset, perform either horribly or at an _almost_ acceptable level, but kept refusing that anything was wrong or that she would need help. Danse felt frustrated to no end, but he could not find a way to get through to her. He was grateful to at least not be in charge of her explosives training, though from the reports he read, she performed considerably better in that. He wrote that success under her being allowed to do it in regular clothes. _Steel help us if she would have to do explosives training in power armour._

Eventually, her skills were deemed good enough to move on from the training at the base. Danse had put aside a small mission for the next phase – it was small, doable in one day, required only one or two soldiers and was located close to the base in Cambridge Police Station. In other words, it was perfect.

Since Quinn was to be in charge of that mission, he let her choose how to approach it and what equipment to take. It came as no surprise that she opted for fatigues and combat armour instead of her power armour. As he was following her lead, he dressed up the same way. They both packed their laser rifles and some rations that should feed them for a day. The hardest part of preparations was to tear Quinn and Haylen apart so they could set out for the mission.

The visit to the police station was supposed to be a quick drop-by to inform Haylen that they were finally about to clear out Cambridge Polymer Labs. As soon as they had found the Scribe at her desk, poring over the schematics of some intricate technological gizmo, Danse knew it was going to take some time. The Knight’s eyes lit up as she joined Haylen to discuss the Scribe’s newest project. Danse’s focus drifted off as the two were throwing around technical terms he had not even heard about. Or probably he had heard them at some point, but forgotten them the same moment as they didn’t have any real meaning to him.

“I’m sure this is all terribly interesting, but the Knight and I have a mission to accomplish.” The boredom in his voice may have been a bit too evident, judging by the amused look exchanged between the women. “Haylen, you should be glad to hear that our destination is the lab complex that you’ve requested to have looked at.”

“Should be great, I will finally get to boss Danse around.” The grin on Quinn’s face made Danse shake his head.

“That is not the point of the mission, Knight. I am there to evaluate your decision-making and make sure you have learned how to conduct yourself as is appropriate for a Brotherhood soldier. Not to be _bossed around_.”

“Good luck to both of you.” Haylen laughed and patted the schematics in front of her. “I have plenty of amusement here, but a part of me is sad I will not get to witness this. Try to come back in one piece, alright?” She got up from the desk to give Quinn a hug. Danse received a smile and a nod. “Was great to see you again, sir.”

“Likewise, Haylen.” Danse returned a smile and hoisted his backpack up from the floor. “We will come by here after the mission, so you will probably see us again before the day is over.”

“As we’ll be staying here for the night, I might even be able to help you build it a bit,” said Quinn as she gestured towards the sketches and calculations. “Anyway, see you soon!”

She grabbed her backpack as well and the two soldiers headed out together. As annoyed as Danse had grown with Quinn over her stubborn refusal to admit she needed help, he was glad to see her being casual and relaxed again. There would still be the issue of how she would handle the next mission that would probably require power armour, but for now she seemed to be fine.

The lab complex that they had thought to be empty had at least one remaining inhabitant. In fact, that inhabitant had been there since before the Great War. The Miss Nanny robot that greeted them at the entrance was badly damaged, the rusted interiors visible through the missing panel on its side. One of its eyes was gone and the arms looked like they might fall off at any given moment. Danse was surprised this unit was still capable of speech, considering the condition it was in.

“Welcome to the Cambridge Polymer Labs!” said the robot, the cheer in its voice contrasting with the destroyed interiors of the building. “My name is Molly. How may I be of assistance? Do you have an appointment made?”

Quinn turned her head to look at Danse who shook his head to signify that he was not about to interfere. She coughed her voice clear before addressing Molly with a matching positive voice. “Oh no, I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment. I would be very interested in meeting the boss though. Can that be arranged?”

“I’m afraid the boss is busy.” Molly floated a bit closed and extended its tongs-equipped arm towards Quinn. “If you’re looking for a job though, there are plenty of employment opportunities in the field of scientific research. Would you like to begin your application now?”

“Yes, I would be very interested in working here.” The irony in her voice didn’t register with the robot who seemed excited to get a new employee.

“Splendid. What qualifications do you have in the field of science?”

Quinn hesitated for a moment before answering. “I have a degree from the electrical engineering and computer science department at CIT.”

“Let’s see what employment opportunities we have available for someone given your qualifications.” Molly fell silent for a few seconds, apparently going through its internal database. “Due to increased demands for staff in all fields, we have condensed the employment test accordingly. Do you possess previous experience with polymer synthesis?”

“Uh… sure. Yes, I worked with them all the time.” Quinn nodded to emphasise her words.

Molly paused again, processing the information. “Calculating test results. I am pleased to offer you the position of Researcher. And your companion here?”

Quinn took a glance at Danse over her shoulder. “He has the same qualifications, we studied together.”

“Excellent! We are in need of more scientific staff. Welcome to the family of Cambridge Polymer Labs.” Molly floated to a locker and retrieved two lab coat sets that she handed to the soldiers. “Here are your uniforms.”

Danse took hold of the small pile of clothes he was handed, eyeing the robot suspiciously. _I thought the recruitment process was way more rigorous before the war. This is how people got a job in military labs?_

“Would you like a tour of the facility before beginning your first workday?”

Quinn shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Show us around.” As Molly started moving towards a corridor, motioning them to follow, Quinn turned to Danse with amusement on her face. “What’s she going to show us, broken toilets and piles of rubble?”

“There may still be other inhabitants,” warned Danse. Something about this place gave him the chills. “Remain vigilant.”

The robot guided them to a room that was mostly filled with broken chairs, some of them hidden under pieces of the ceiling that had caved in. Molly asked them to take a seat, so they found two chairs that were still mostly intact and sat down.

Molly looked over the room as if it was filled with spectators instead of the two soldiers who were still holding on to the folded lab coats they had been handed. “Welcome to the orientation tour. We will begin with the history of the facility. The genesis of Cambridge Polymer Labs lies in the research of a group of brilliant graduate students. Jon Elwood, Ericka Woolum and Wilfred Bergman met during their time together at the CIT. This slide shows them at their graduation.”

As Molly flicked one of the floating arms, thinking it was switching the non-existent slides, Quinn perked up in her chair next to Danse. “Shit, Wil?” she whispered with a grin spreading over her face. “No fucking way.”

Danse’s eyes widened in surprise. _So her studying in CIT was not another one of her cover lies?_

“Their research into nucleostrictive and piezoelectric polymers caught the attention of Colonel George Kemp in the fall of 2073. In the spring of 2074 the company was founded, with a generous grant provided by the Defence Experimental Research Project Initiative.” Molly flicked an arm again, trying to swap slides. “The research produced here has resulted in several of components used in the Liberty Prime project that led to the successful defence of Anchorage.”

Another flick. “The company enjoys a strong relationship with the military and welcomes your addition to the research team that helps build a better America." For a moment it seemed that Molly was about to say something more, but a weird sound from the inside of its head interrupted, halting its speech with a screech.

“Thank you for the tour,” said Quinn. She stood up and dusted off her outfit. “So, time to get to work, I guess.” She was still looking amused, like it was all a giant joke to her. _Does she think this is a game? What was it that people in the old times did… masquerade? Play-pretend games?_

Molly seemed to have overcome the glitch in its head. “Please follow me to the research lab so that you may begin your work.” As the robot guided them through corridors, it pointed out different areas of the building, including the employee relaxation area that was probably very luxurious a long time ago. They stopped at dressing rooms. “Please change into uniforms before proceeding to the clean room.” Molly floated a bit further, giving them space.

“Are you seriously planning to indulge this robot for longer?” asked Danse with a frown. “You are in charge of this mission, but I fail to see what advantage does it give us to play along.”

“It gives us the advantage of keeping Molly from becoming hostile towards the intruders that we are.” The smile that appeared on Quinn’s face had childlike mirth in it. “Plus this is so much more fun than just walking in and shooting everything. And she gives us extra information. So, I have made my decision as the _boss_.” She pointed at the uniform Danse was still awkwardly holding in his hand. “Suit up, soldier.”

Slowly shaking his head, Danse turned to the door that led to men’s dressing room. Quinn broke down in fits of laughter moments later when he ended up with the handle in his grasp and the door slamming to the ground, barely missing him. “I guess this dressing room is out of order,” said Danse dryly as he peered into the mess that used to be a room before the roof had decided to meet the ground a long time ago.

“Just get in here, it’s not like you’ll shock some poor lady going to work.” Quinn signalled him to join her in the opposite room. Despite feeling odd about stepping past the sign that clearly marked this area as women’s dressing room, Danse did as requested. With their backs towards each other, they stripped out of their fatigues to replace them with lab coats and regulation trousers for the lab environment. He felt very conscious of his moves and the location of his partner as he was changing clothes. This was definitely not normal mission procedure. _Then again, how many missions with her have followed proper procedure down to a T?_

Danse was about to add his armour pieces on top of the new uniform, but as Quinn made no move to do so, he skipped that step as well. _She is in charge, so it’s up to her to decide how to proceed. I can only hope the robot will not insist that we leave our weapons behind. Would be a waste to kill it after going through all this effort to blend in._

Molly didn’t even mention the fact that the new employees were carrying laser weapons that should definitely not be a part of a lab uniform. Danse felt relieved. For a change, he had a mission that was going without any big issues. He had not expected the presence of a half-broken robot, but Quinn was making the most of this changed situation. He appreciated her ability to adapt to the environment, even if it was accompanied by her odd glee that made him feel almost uneasy at times.

They stepped into the clean room that was supposed to decontaminate them before entering the labs. Molly stayed in the control area to wait for the procedure to end. The doors on either side of the room hissed shut, sealing them in. “Decontamination in progress,” announced a voice over the intercom. “Please stand by until the process has ended.”

Danse felt something singeing his skin, causing him to flinch in pain. _Not sure this was supposed to happen. At least it will be over soon._

True enough, the feeling passed within a few dozen seconds. The door leading to the labs opened, but the way out remained sealed. Molly looked at them through the window, looking almost remorseful – if robots were capable of showing remorse, that is. “I have been instructed to inform you that Director Elwood has issued mandatory overtime due to uncompleted milestones. Estimated time until release…” It paused, apparently doing some calculations. “5 years.”

“What!?” Quinn blanched and rushed to the shut door. “I thought you were going to show us to the labs! Open up, Molly!” She slammed her fist against the door, but it didn’t budge.

“I am sorry.” Molly floated away, accompanied by Quinn’s cursing and her relentless assault on the door.

“Come back! Open this door, damnit!” Another bang at the door, followed by her foot slamming against the metal. “Molly!”

The robot didn’t respond or return and the heavy door remained shut, without a dent on it. Quinn let out a guttural scream of despair and slid into a seated position against the wall, face almost as grey as the wall behind her. “Fuck, Danse. We’re locked in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...you didn't really think they would have an easy mission, did you? ;)


	10. Science & Secrecy

The main room of the research area was definitely not among the nicest places Fox had visited during her time in the Commonwealth. Due to the lack of circulation, the air felt damp and thick, weighing down on her as she paced back and forth. Danse was sitting on a nearby sofa, visibly relieved that she was at least not panicking anymore.

After the hysteria of being locked in had died down, Fox had quickly launched into another wave of panic as she realised their backpacks had been left behind in the dressing room. These kinds of emotional rollercoasters usually made her feel tired, but this time the adrenaline made her feel on the edge as she measured the room with sharp steps.

“You’re absolutely sure you don’t want to take it from here?” she asked again, deep lines of worry on her forehead.

“Absolutely. This is your mission. I will only take over in case of a situation with an imminent threat where my level of experience would be needed. You can find a way to solve this, just think.” He sounded more confident than she expected him to be.

_It must be killing him though, being stuck in here with me. If what Brandis told me is true, he will be judged on this as much as I am. I guess it would reflect really badly on him to be killed on the first mission where the Knight he trained took the lead. Hell, it would reflect very badly on me as well to die here. Guess I should try not to do that._

“Whenever you need my assistance on anything, just give the command. Otherwise I will remain observing.” Danse’s words snapped her out of her thoughts. _Yes, let’s get started with finding a way out… I was in no way thinking about us both dying in here. Because that would be damn morbid._

“Alright, this machine here obviously has something to do with whatever they were researching in this lab.” She was talking more to herself than him, trying to come up with a plan. “So the terminals around here should have information on the experiments they were conducting. Even in big hush-hush military research they have to keep the data somewhere. Sooo… let’s start here.”

In a few strides Fox was at the terminal in the middle of the room. It wasn’t even locked. She pondered the menu that opened on the screen and then called out to Danse. “There’s information on their experiments. You might want to see this.”

Danse joined her at the terminal to see what she had found. She started feeling a bit distracted by the warmth radiating from his body as he leaned over her shoulder to read. She could feel his breath moving the ends of her hair that were stubbornly sticking out, despite her attempts to smooth it down in the morning. She suppressed a shudder as her skin developed slight goosebumps.

“I guess they used this one for logging their work,” said Fox, forcing herself to focus on reading. “This is actually rather cool, they were apparently trying to upgrade power armour. I know someone who would be absolutely fascinated by this.” She paused for a moment, her expression hardening. “…knew someone.”

She moved around in the logs for a while and the work of the team became clearer with every entry she read. “They were _so_ close to figuring things out. Hm, but what’s this about being trapped? I guess it could be the “compulsory overtime” we got subjected to as well.” Fox let out a sigh as she rubbed her forehead. “Seriously, this research material is making me regret I didn’t pay enough attention to chemistry during my studies.”

A glance over her shoulder made it clear that Danse was at an even bigger disadvantage. The look on his face was similar to the one he acquired whenever Haylen went too deep into tech language; the feigned understanding on his face trying to cover the fact that he had lost the plot ten minutes back. After all, he didn’t want to appear ignorant in front of his squad. Fox had to bite back a chuckle. _He has no idea what was going on in this research. It’s kind of endearing in a way though, the way he pretends he is still following everything._

Her amusement died fast, the last log entry making her eyes widen in shock. “Damnit.” She read the lines again, not wanting to believe the words in front of her. With the team trapped in the lab complex, Wilfred Bergman had apparently taken matters into his own hands. No longer trusting his team, he had locked himself in a lab to find a way to trigger the facility defence systems, likely sentencing the other scientists to death.

“Shit, Wil went insane in here.” A chill ran over her body. It was heart-breaking to know that almost everyone she knew was dead, but usually it was a vague idea in the back of her head. Faced with log entries about someone who had had an actual impact on her life; finding out that he had knowingly endangered others to buy his way out… that hurt Fox more than she wanted to admit. _Damnit, Wil. You were one of the great ones. I wish I had never seen this. The illusion was better than the truth._

Danse shifted uncomfortably and stepped back to give her privacy as she lowered her head into her hands. Fox forced herself to look up and smile. “I’m fine. It’s just that… I knew this guy. And I can’t believe he would have done such a thing.”

Not wanting to discuss this any further, she pushed herself off the chair and strode over to the big machine that spanned an entire wall. “So this must be one of their main research machines, judging by the location and the size. Let’s see what this does.” She was talking to herself again, trying to fill the thick air with chatter to prevent herself from dwelling on the situation they were in.

She had been fiddling around with the controls of the machine for a while when Danse interrupted her constant muttering. “Do you actually have a plan to get us out of here or are you just messing about with every piece of machinery you can find?”

Fox frowned and turned around, leaning on the machine behind her. “To be completely and utterly honest… I have no fucking idea. It’s not like I get myself locked in buildings all the time. It’s clear that even with our weapons, we won’t be breaking out through the clean room unless Molly decides to open the door for us.” She sighed and traced the edge of the machine with her palm, dust accumulating on her skin. “So I guess I’m winging it, trying to find anything that could spark an idea that would help us.”

“The robot clearly possesses the ability to open the door, but it refuses to do it since the lab team is _behind in work._ ” Danse’s eyebrows were threatening to meld together, judging by the deep frown adorning his face. “What if we show it something to make it think we have succeeded?”

“If it were that easy, I’m pretty sure the terminal wouldn’t be full of cries of help to get out.” Fox sighed, but she perked up a moment later. “Wait, no, that’s actually a great idea! I mean, we could _actually_ show her the results.”

Danse looked very sceptical, but he didn’t dismiss the idea immediately. “If you are capable of doing that, sure. This is your plan then, to finish the research the entire team wasn’t able to do?”

“You read it as well, the research was practically done. The only reason they didn’t succeed was that Wil was actively sabotaging them. With no people left in here, we can just gather the materials and go through the production process on our own.” Fox was practically bouncing with energy now, eager to start moving and doing something. She whirled around to study the machine once more.

“So, we need the containers with samples. And the radioactive component – I hope they have it well isolated.” She rushed to the terminal they had been reading earlier, forcing Danse to take a step back to avoid being overrun. “Yes, this should be really easy! See, we just need to find the containers for lithium hydride and gold. And isotope U-238.”

_We’re going to die here. We are_ so _going to die here and I will never see Shaun and the memory of Nate will die here with me._ She shook her head, a wide grin plastered on her face. “Piece of cake!” _Pull yourself together. Just get through this, finish your damn Knight Exam and get your army leave. Kells promised you could get leave after the training, so suck it up and survive so you could continue looking for your son. That is an order, soldier._

Her inner pep-talk wasn’t working as well as she had hoped, so she grinned wider until the skin around her mouth started to hurt from the strain. Danse was giving her a worried look that she didn’t really want to see. It broke her illusion that she could wish all the bad things away. She spun into action to avoid having him ask why she looked odd. “So, the samples. They should look a bit like fire extinguishers, at least where the shape is concerned.” She pointed at the clamps on the machine that were supposed to hold the missing samples. “Do you want to look for them together or should we split up?”

“It is up to you. You are in charge of the mission, Knight.” Danse was still looking worried, but he seemed to appreciate that she had finally come up with a plan to try out.

“Let’s split up,” decided Fox after a brief pause for thinking. “But since we don’t know how big the lab complex is, let’s keep our weapons at the ready in case anything pops up. And we should let each other know how far we are.”

“And how should we do that?” asked Danse with a slight frown.

Fox grinned as an idea struck up in her head. “Do you know Marco Polo? The game.”

His frown deepened. “Can’t say that I do. What does a game have to do with our mission?”

“It’s a kids’ game. Usually played in the water. One kid shuts her eyes and the others swim away. The kid shouts out “Marco!” when she wants to know where the others are. The rest have to answer “Polo!” so she would know where to look and could catch them.”

“Why would the others give away their tactical advantage by reporting their position?” The genuine confusion on his face nearly made her laugh, but she contained herself for his sake. Danse shook his head in disdain. “And this is a very wasteful way of using hazmat suits.”

Now it was her turn to feel puzzled. “What do hazmat suits have to do with- …oh. No-no, it’s not played anymore. It’s from when the water wasn’t radioactive. People went in the water for fun, we even had special bathing suits for that. And shouting back was kind of the point of the game.” She picked up her rifle from where she had placed it earlier. “Anyway, I thought we could use that to locate each other. If you hear me shout “Marco”, just shout “Polo” back. And vice versa.”

Danse didn’t seem entirely convinced by that idea, but he didn’t protest either. “I will keep that in mind. You people had odd pastimes before the war.”

A grin on her face, Fox motioned towards the door to the rest of the complex. “Let’s go, soldier.” _I could get used to bossing him around. It’s kind of nice not to have any resistance. Then again, this could also mean I have already majorly fucked up and he’s just trying to see whether I can make things a bit better before he takes over._

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight that opened behind the door. Some ceiling tiles had fallen down, marking the floor of the lobby with a big dent that had filled with water. A few skeletons were scattered around, the reasons for their death unknown. Some lights were still on, filling the lobby with a cold eerie light. Fox began to rethink her plan to split up, but stopped her train of thought before it got to proper doomsday thinking. _It will be fine. He will be nearby and there’s nothing left here that could harm us anyway. Right?_

“So… you’ll take the room on the left and I’ll take the one across the lobby,” said Fox. “After that, just continue with this floor. And we’ll meet here before taking on the second floor together.” Danse nodded in acknowledgement and they parted ways.

Fox fought to keep her rising anxiety under control. The labs felt small, despite their actual size, and she felt the walls slowly closing in around her. _Stop being ridiculous. The walls are not moving and you are fine. Just fine. Everything is fine._

She slapped her cheek with the back of her hand, the physical sensation making her feel more connected to reality. The room she had entered was too dark to see properly, so she switched on the flashlight of her Pip-Boy. The lone ray of light hit a half-collapsed desk and someone’s arm that was draped across it. _Another dead body. What killed them all?_

She stepped closer, noticing a terminal at the back end of the room. _Excellent, perhaps there’s information on where they kept the samples._ She caught sight of movement in the corner of her eye. A finger on the arm draped across the desk twitched. Fox froze in place, staring at the limb. The arm was definitely moving, accompanied by a hissing sound she knew all too well by now. Fox felt her heartrate spike as she lifted her rifle.

The ghoul sprinted forward, flinging its corpselike body at her, limbs flailing. With shaky arms, Fox fired a shot. It missed. The ghoul’s arm slashed across her chest, tearing the fabric of her lab coat with a sickening rip. Fox clambered backwards, trying to shove the creature off her. She fired another barely aimed shot. The ghoul screeched, its leg jerking backwards with the hit. Fox fired again and again, laser beams illuminating the room.

When the ghoul had stopped moving, Fox leaned on the doorframe to catch her breath. Her coat was torn, with the left shoulder having caught the worst of the ghoul’s attack, but all limbs seemed to be working fine. Judging by the gunfire sounding from another room, she was not the only one who had found company.

Since the shots died down and there was no onslaught of ghouls in the lobby, Fox assumed Danse had everything under control. After making sure her room didn’t have any other surprises in store, she turned her attention to the terminal. That one was not for general use, since it was password-protected. Not that it managed to keep Fox out – within a few minutes she was in, feeling rather baffled.

_Wait, this is military-grade security? I guess Wil didn’t share his tips with the others here… Must have wanted to keep a way to access everyone’s data whenever he wished. Sneaky bastard._ She smiled fondly as she accessed the internal mail section of the terminal.

The first message she opened wiped that smile away. It was a rather snarky-sounding memo from Jon Elwood, the director of the company. The rational side of Fox realised that the tone of the message was probably far less unpleasant than how she perceived it to be. The rest of her smothered that thought. _Pompous ass, always thought he was above the others._ She adopted his low drawling voice as she read out a few lines of his memo.

““To address concerns about the noise outside, those are the military exercises I mentioned. I’m aware they’re very loud and that some of you have been disturbed by it. I assure you _everything_ is fine.” Pff, fucking liar. He kept them stuck down here while the world above was swept away, not even allowing them to go and see their families before everyone died anyway. Fuck. Fucking Jon. An asshole in CIT, an asshole at work. Why am I not surprised?”

She got up from the terminal, finding pleasure in the cracking noises her back made as she stretched her arms above her head. Reminding herself that she was supposed to look for samples, she headed for the next door from the lobby. Instead of a room, that one revealed a winding corridor. The warning signs on the wall had mostly peeled off or become otherwise illegible. Curiosity made Fox press on, going further until she reached another door.

_Hm, locked. I may bet this terminal would help though._ She made her way through the menus of the terminal on the wall, smiling to herself as the tricks Wil had taught her opened the door without any problems. _It would be hilarious, if it weren’t so sad. Hah, I could make a fortune in the Wasteland, offering security services to all terminal-owners. …this might not even be a bad idea! Something for the future, I guess. Would be nice to switch to a safer job once I have Shaun back._

The door opened with a low hiss and she peered around the doorframe. The room was mostly dark, except for the glow in one corner, reflecting on the pool of water that filled the lower part of the room. _What the hell is that? Wait, is it moving?_ As the glowing pile stood up, Fox realised it had limbs. And a head. _The fucking ghoul is glowing?! What the…_ Her hands frantically looking for the rifle on her back, she bellowed out for help. “Danse! I might need help over here! Marco!”

She shot at the ghoul, but it only seemed to enrage the creature. Fox heard a faint “Polo!” from elsewhere in the building before the ghoul made its way to her through the water and pulled her forward with the kind of force she had not expected it to wield. She slammed to the floor, rough concrete scraping against her bare skin.

“DANSE!” Her thoughts were drowned out by a steady string of “fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck” repeating in her head. The rifle was out of reach. She kicked at the ghoul, launching it backwards. While the creature was getting back on its feet, she tried to stand up as well, but her foot slipped on something.

The ghoul was upon her again, its sinewy fingers grasping at her arm, the mouth with yellow shattered teeth screeching at her. She shrieked as her body got yanked, the coarse floor rasping her back. A strange crackling noise from her Pip-Boy distracted her for a moment, allowing the ghoul to rip her sleeve and pull them both crashing over the edge they had been teetering on.

Water splashed around her. She tried to scream, but water was everywhere, stinging at her eyes and choking her as it found its way to her throat. The burning sensation on her skin was unlike anything she had felt before. There was no air to breathe, the burning reached her lungs. It felt like her insides were contracting, trying to push out the water and the pain. She kicked, trying to push the ghoul off her back. The pressure increased; there was no hope in sight. There was only water, pain and the fire in her fresh wounds. She felt her consciousness slipping away, trying to save her from the torture.

She opened her eyes with a start, coughing out water and gasping for air. The room had changed. As her eyes learned to focus again, she saw the ceiling of the lobby above her. The view got obscured by Danse’s anguished face as he leaned forward. “By steel, Quinn. For a moment I thought you were gone.”

She bent to the side to cough up some more water. Her lungs still felt like they were on fire and the rest of her body wasn’t in much better condition. “Fuck,” she rasped out when she could breathe almost evenly again. “What the fuck was that?”

“A highly irradiated ghoul.” He supported her as she tried to sit up properly, holding her right shoulder with care. “The abomination was trying to drown you or rip you apart. Or both.” He took a look at her back and winced.

“How bad is it?” Speaking hurt, but not as much as her skin did. _What on earth was this? And what kind of a fucked up future is this? Even the water hurts! Fuck’s sake._

“There are some bad scratches, but nothing fatal. The way your skin is turning red is not a good sign though.” Danse’s expression switched to angry. “What were you thinking, going in there without backup? Are you still looking for ways to get killed?”

“Well excuse me for not knowing every fucking abomination this nightmare of a world keeps throwing at me!” Another wave of violent coughing took her over, making her wince in pain as her body shook. She took a moment to catch her breath, tears in her eyes. “Fuck.”

Danse was slowly breathing in and out, trying to control his anger. It seemed to work, but Fox wasn’t sure whether she preferred having him angry over the misery that took over afterwards. “You didn’t know. I should have been there though; I should not have let us split up like this. I nearly let you get killed by that abomination.”

“No, you _saved_ me from that abomination,” corrected Fox. “Thank you. But seriously, the next time you speak such bullshit, I will smack you. And shush, I’m the commanding officer at the moment, so I get to say stuff like that.” A small smile appeared on her face, erased the next moment by a wave of pain.

Danse responded something, but his voice barely registered with her, agony taking over all her senses. She screamed out in pain when Danse lifted her from the ground to relocate her.

“I’m so sorry, but we both soaked up too many rads in that room. You more than me, since that filth submerged you in irradiated water as well. I know it hurts, but the residue has to be removed.” He placed her down as gently as he could. Fox opened her eyes and frowned in confusion.

“A shower?” She winced and clutched at her left shoulder. Her hand came back bloody, causing her to curse.

“There is no point in trying to treat your wounds if we’re both covered in radiation. The water works, I already checked that earlier when I passed through this area. And there’s some soap.” He pointed at the soap near Fox and she nodded in acknowledgement, teeth clenched in agony. “If you’re capable of doing so, start washing yourself. There’s even a working shower curtain for modesty. I will go and track down replacement outfits for both, there was a laundry room nearby.”

With Danse gone on a hunt for clothes, Fox narrowed her eyes in determination and forced herself to stand up. Getting undressed nearly caused her to black out from pain. The feeling of torn fabric sliding across her back was unbearable. Tears flowing from her eyes, she kicked the clothes further away, pulled the cabin curtain shut and turned on the showerhead. A stream of cold water hit her back, making her cry out.

_You can do this. Wash that horror off your skin or you will end up with serious radiation poisoning._ The scary images from pre-war leaflets about the effects of radiation in her head, she forced herself to extend an arm under the water, trying to ignore the pain wracking her entire body. Fortunately, the temperature changed for the better over time, allowing her to stand fully under the stream.

“How are you doing in there?” Danse had returned, standing at a respectful distance despite the curtain that blocked the view. “Everything alright?”

“Well, I’m still alive.” Fox moved on to washing her legs, teeth grinding together to provide distraction.

“I found some replacement clothes. They will be on the bench outside your cabin.” She could hear him shuffling around, placing things on the bench and then moving to the shower cabin next to her.

Fox had nearly finished with scrubbing herself when Danse spoke up again, sounding uncomfortable. “My side doesn’t have any soap. Would you mind passing yours?” Fox grabbed the bar of soap and looked to her right. The wall extended from the very top to the bottom, leaving no way to pass anything. Feeling awkward and very naked, she hobbled to the curtain, angling her arm so it could reach around the wall to Danse’s cabin.

“Thank you.” She felt his fingers brush her skin as the soap was removed from her palm. He had touched her numerous times before – usually after she had managed to disable herself somehow – but this felt different, making her body shudder. It was mostly because she knew they were both stark naked, despite neither of them seeing the other. Her “you’re welcome” came out a bit muted, forcing her to cough her throat clear.

_No, Fox, you do not imagine your boss naked. That is insanely inappropriate. Cut it out, now._ She pinched her arm to get her focus to shift, causing a yelp of pain.

The water on Danse’s side cut out. “Is everything okay?”

Fox cursed in her head. “Yeah, fine. I just stubbed my toe.” She rinsed off the last bits of soap, her skin almost numb from pain by that point. She stuck her head outside the curtain to check the bench. The clothes Danse had brought were there in a neat pile and he had even managed to find a few towels. A quick glance towards Danse’s shower cabin made her flush red, creating an odd colour combination with her ginger hair. Apparently he had given her the only cabin that still had a functional curtain.

Trying to banish the image from her head, she tried to grab a towel and her pile of clothes as fast as possible, retreating back to her cabin. Drying off and getting dressed without a place to put some things in between would have been difficult on a normal day, but in her situation it was near-impossible. She cursed as the shirt fell in the puddle on the floor. Acting fast, she managed to grab it before the entire shirt soaked through. Even one wet sleeve was very unpleasant, since it clung to her tender skin and pulled at it with every move.

She averted her glance as she left the shower cabin. Danse was finishing getting dressed, buttoning up his shirt. There was nothing inappropriate on display, but Fox didn’t trust herself to even see his chest at that point. Her pain had pulled back to a tolerable level, allowing inappropriate thoughts to flood her head again. For a moment she thought of Nate, but the image of her dead husband in the cryo pod hurt too much to even consider dwelling on it. _Ignore it and it goes away. And even if it doesn’t, this doesn’t make him any more alive._

“How are you feeling?” Danse flung his towel across the shower curtain rod and did the same for Fox’s towel as she was in no condition for such exercises. She gave a curt shrug, wincing from pain as the shirt pulled on her injured shoulder. She had forgotten about it in her rush to get dressed and the fabric was now getting painted red by her blood.

“Uh, evidently I’m bloody marvellous.” She forced out a small smile, but Danse did not find the situation funny. “I guess I’m not in charge anymore,” she remarked as he marched her back to the main research room.

“I’m taking over until I can be sure you are capable of moving around without bleeding all over the place. Sit.” He pointed at the ratty sofa and she obliged. “There were a few first aid kits around. No radaways left, but I did find bandages and a few other meds.”

He rolled up her sleeve to administer a stimpak near her bleeding shoulder. The sting of the needle was quickly replaced with a feeling of relief as the medicine worked its way through her system. Her skin was still hurting, but it was nowhere near what she had experienced before the shower.

The fabric refused to roll any higher, but her left shoulder still needed bandaging. Danse used scissors from a first aid kit to unceremoniously chop off the entire sleeve. Fox felt a bit dazed from the medication, so she only laughed at that. “Fashionable. I haven’t looked this good in ages.”

Danse fastened the bandage and looked at her with slight humour in his eyes. “Not sure, I think what you wore on your arrival at our base in Cambridge still wins. I was rather impressed by the amount of tape you had managed to incorporate into your outfit.”

He packed away the kit he had used and turned a chair towards the sofa to take a seat. The shadows around his eyes made Fox worry for his health, but she still didn’t feel like she should ask about that. _It’s not like I’m the perfect image of health myself at this point._ Instead, she turned her attention to their task that had been interrupted by the ghoul interlude. “Did you happen to find any samples?”

Danse gestured towards three containers placed on top of the machine. “A few. The only markings on them are numbers. We have 49, 65 and 3111, but no data to tell us what the numbers signify.”

“There’s an analysis function on the machine, so we can just run them through.” She started getting up, but Danse’s stern glance forced her to lower herself back on the sofa. “Come on, Danse, I’m feeling perfectly fine. This isn’t even the worst I’ve gone through.”

“You will stay right there and give me instructions instead.” His voice made it clear that his decision was not up for negotiation. “This is just deceitful comfort from the stimpak. Once that wears off, you will start feeling the real extent of your injuries. Not to mention that we have no radaway to counter the rads you got in that room. It’s even more important to get out fast now, but you will do us no favours by overworking yourself.”

He moved over to the machine and looked at her expectantly. Fox smiled to herself. _Does he not even know the basics? Or is this another test to see whether I can give instructions?_

“Once you start the console, there’s an option to analyse the input reagents. Place what you want analysed in the clamps and hit start, the machine should take care of the rest.” Fox slowly massaged her arm, attempting to soothe the skin without resorting to scratching. She watched with amusement how Danse inserted two containers and dealt with the machine’s terminal, muttering something that sounded a lot like cursing.

“It’s processing now,” said Danse after a while. “But I’m not sure the progress bar is even moving. It goes very slowly.” He glanced over to Fox who was swaying a bit on the sofa. “You should get some rest. There isn’t much to do while we wait anyway. Lie down, if your injuries permit it, and try to get some shut-eye. I will keep watch.”

She wanted to protest, but her adrenaline high had passed long ago and exhaustion had kicked in. A small nap did not seem like a bad idea at all. “Alright, but you will have to wake me up the moment there’s results on the machine. You promise?”

“I promise. Go to sleep, Quinn.” He turned his back to her, monitoring the process on the machine. Fox yawned and gingerly set her body down, the right side lying against the sofa. It still hurt, but not as much as her left side would have. Her tiredness trumped over pain, letting her drift off to dreams within minutes.

She woke to Danse gently touching her side, avoiding her injured shoulder. She pushed herself to a seated position, chills going over her body as a jacket slid off her. “You seemed cold and I couldn’t find a proper blanket,” Danse explained. “The analysis is done. One is cobalt and the other Is lithium hydride. If I remember correctly, the latter was one of the samples we needed.”

Fox slid a hand over her burning forehead. “Uh… yes. I guess. Should be.” She blinked, feeling the movement with a delay. Her entire body seemed to have slowed down, along with her ability to think. “So… we still need the other one. Gold. And there was the radioactive part as well.”

“I have gathered a few other samples while you slept. The machine was _really_ slow.” He pointed at the small line of containers he had arranged on the desk. “We can pick two new ones to analyse. And in the meanwhile, you should at least drink something. I don’t trust any of the food here, but there is a stash of purified water we can use.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” Her mouth felt parched, as if she hadn’t drunk any water for days. “Just pick random containers and remember which one was the… the… lithium hydride. Where’s the water?”

“You stay right where you are, I will get it for you.” He handed her the jacket that had slid to the floor. “And cover up, you’re shivering.”

Fox wrapped the jacket around her, but it didn’t help much against the shudders. Lying down to curl up for warmth was not an option anymore, since her nausea would not have allowed for that. _I guess this is what it feels like to have radiation poisoning._ The room was swimming in front of her eyes, making her feel seasick.

Danse returned and handed her a bottle, having already opened it for her. Water felt divine, even if it was at room temperature and tasted a bit odd. After quickly emptying the entire bottle, she let it roll to the floor, strength gone from her arms. “Thank you. This was exactly what I needed.”

“Let me know whenever you want more.” Danse picked up the bottle and placed it neatly out of the way. Fox followed him with her eyes as he inserted new samples in the machine and started the analysing process. The lithium hydride was put on the side, ready for use once they had all the reagents they needed.

“We still need the radioactive component, but it is locked in one of the labs where Wil had apparently barricaded himself in.” Fox rubbed her forehead, trying to force herself to focus and remember the contents of the terminals she had read. “If I remember correctly, there should be an alternate way in. Through the ventilation ducts or something. But getting out of there could still require hacking a terminal, so I can’t let you go there without me.”

She sighed, her head spinning. _You can do this. You are a strong independent woman and a few injuries will not hold you back._ Her eyes narrowed in pain as she pushed herself up from the sofa. Danse moved to her location in a flash, probably to stop her, but she made a shushing sound. “I’m not bleeding, so you are not in charge anymore. And I say we are going to get the isotope while the machine is busy with analysing.”

Danse looked hesitant for a moment, but gave in. “Alright, but on one condition. Playing a martyr will not help us accomplish the task, so you need to let me know when you require assistance. Promise?”

She reached out her hand, smallest finger pointed upwards. “Pinky swear.” Danse looked confused, so she used her other hand to create a similar formation with Danse’s finger, linking it together with hers in a hook.

“I’m not even going to ask.” The bewilderment on his face was now mixed with amusement and Fox grinned at him.

“The pinky swear seals a promise. It’s serious business.” She unhooked their fingers and looked for her rifle. Danse handed it to her without her even asking for it. She attempted moving it to her back, but the amount of pain that caused forced her to stop immediately. _Guess I’ll be carrying it in hand the entire time then. Fun._

Suppressing her desire to lie down on the floor and sleep, she nodded at Danse. “Let’s go. We have a mystery to solve, soldier.” They left the room side by side, Danse keeping a watchful eye on her in case she would need support.


	11. Uranium Fever

The reason for the random skeletons in the lobby became apparent as they reached the second floor. The remains of a few protectrons were scattered around, some more skeletons lying nearby in contorted positions. Danse warned Quinn to watch her step and tried to refrain from grabbing her arm to guide her through the mess. Her skin was flushed and eyes glossy, her slow movements telling Danse that she did not have a proper grasp on the situation anymore. She had however promised to ask for help when needed and he respected that.

“Such a waste,” said Quinn, sadness in her eyes. “All of this could have been prevented. They didn’t have to die. And the robots were destroyed as well… they would have been useful to get from here.” Danse appreciated that line of thinking. _She is finally thinking in terms of what could benefit the Brotherhood. I guess the training has paid off._

They reached a room lined with filing cabinets. Most drawers were open, displaying their stacks of yellowed folders and papers. In the middle of the room was a table that was mostly empty, save for one note, a mug and a peculiar small box. The skeleton that leaned on the table still had its fingers wrapped around the mug. Danse slipped on some paper scraps and caught hold of the table to avoid falling. That sent the skeleton crashing to the ground, making Quinn wince as her arms flew towards her ears to shield them.

“Sorry for that, the mess in here is not made for walking.” Danse picked up the paper and let his eyes skim over the lines, eyebrows drawing into a frown. Quinn leaned closer to read as well, but gave up very quickly and leaned against the table.

“Could you read it out? I can’t focus properly.” Danse could tell that the question took a lot of effort from her side. Admitting weakness was not her forte.

“Sure.” Danse wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue, feeling the dryness. Despite all the water he had drunk, it didn’t seem to be enough. His stomach was protesting as well, demanding the lunch and dinner they had skipped. And who knows, perhaps breakfast as well? He had lost all sense of time.

“Everyone else left tried to get into Bergman’s lab to get the password for the Isotope Containment, but he rigged up some kind of gun. Ericka was killed. Most of my hair is gone from the radiation and I can barely see. There’s no way I can finish the research on my own now, so I’ve chosen to make it a quicker end.”

He hesitated before reading the last lines. _She knew those people. I’m not sure how painful all of this must be for her. For once, the abominations are actually people she had interacted with. This must be one of her worst nightmares come true._ He finished reading out the note, his voice raspy from thirst and reluctance. “Jon Elwood, I’ll see you in hell. Tom Franklin.”

Quinn let a heavy breath out, visibly deflating under his concerned glance. “They all died and it was his fault. They all died here.” She pulled her hands through her messy hair, arms shaking. “No. This was Jon’s fault. He locked them in. Wil was just trying to get out and the things he did were out of desperation.”

Danse didn’t respond since she seemed to be talking more to herself than him by that point. He looked to the side, giving her time to pull herself together. _We have to keep moving though. Her condition is only going to get worse and the radiation dose I got will soon start affecting me as well. We have to get out before both of us die here – or worse, turn into ghouls._

She must have come to a similar conclusion, since she pushed herself up from the leaning position against the table and wiped her eyes. “Alright, let’s go. We still need to find the isotope. And I’m assuming this blown up ceiling is our way in.” There was a ramp of sorts created as a strip of the ceiling had fallen to the floor, one end still attached at the top. She stumbled when starting to walk towards it, but managed to stay upright, determination on her sweaty face.

He could see her knuckles turning white as she grabbed the side of the ramp. Righteous Authority in her right hand, the other desperately grasping the jagged edge of the metal ramp, she made her way up to the top of the ceiling. Danse followed her closely, ready to catch her in case she lost her footing.

They were both relieved to find that the way to Bergman’s barricaded lab was not actually inside a ventilation duct. Instead they found a spacious tunnel of sorts, with the ventilation duct running on the left side and various pipes along the right side and the bottom of the tunnel. In some places, the ceiling tiles had broken away, leaving a gaping hole with just a thin strip of metal for walking on.

Quinn was wobbling on her feet, but still staying upright without voicing any complaints. She stopped in front of the first hole, hesitation on her face. “I think I need help with this one.” Her voice was so quiet that Danse could barely hear her, not to mention that he wasn’t sure what he heard was actually correct. _Wait, is Quinn actually asking for help? She must really be struggling._

Danse relieved her of her rifle and slung it on his shoulder. He was the first to step on the edge, using his left hand to grasp the pipes for balance. He reached out his other hand towards Quinn who was still standing near the hole, slowly blinking her eyes and swaying a bit. “Just hold on, I won’t let you fall. And tell me if you need a break.”

She took hold of his hand and made a hesitant step forward. Danse could feel the fever that was burning her – even her hand was as if she had been lying in the summer sun for too long. He didn’t dare to think what would her body temperature be at that point.

They made their way to the opening above Bergman’s lab, Quinn leaning more heavily on his arm with every hole they had to cross. Her eyes were barely open when Danse took a peek down the final hole, contemplating how they should drop down. The dark room did not look inviting in the least and he did not like the idea of going in without knowing what was waiting for them in there. There was no other option though, so he was forced to make a decision. “I’ll go first so I could support you. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to join me. Until then, just sit down and wait.”

She agreed to the plan and sat down near the edge with a sigh escaping her chapped lips. Danse arranged the two rifles on his back so they wouldn’t fall with the jump. With no backup weapons available, they could not afford losing anything. He took a deep breath and lowered himself into the room. His feet hit the ground with a painful thump; taking care of the weapons didn’t allow him to roll for softening the landing.

The darkness and silence around him made him feel uneasy. The only way he could scout out the room properly was getting Quinn down there with her Pip-Boy light. “Get ready to drop,” he told the waiting Knight. “I’m waiting just under the opening.”

Quinn slid her legs over the edge and tried to slowly ease the rest of her body down, but her arms did not have enough strength for that. She went tumbling over the edge, with only Danse’s expecting arms saving her from crashing to the floor. He held her up until she managed to find her footing. Her flashlight was illuminating half the room, allowing them to see that this lab had not escaped the destruction either. A skeleton was just a few metres away from them, some bones blasted to pieces.

The small circle of light darted around with Quinn trying to find the door, hesitating over a pile of torn clothes in the corner. By the time they realised that the pile was very much alive, it was already launching itself towards them. Danse shoved Quinn unceremoniously behind his back, reaching for a weapon with his other hand. The first one he grasped was Righteous Authority, so he pointed that at the ghoul who was already clawing at him. As attempting to shoot it at that range was pointless, he used the rifle to whack the creature over the head, bashing its skull.

The ghoul screeched as it fell to the side. Danse fired several shots in its withered body before it managed to wring its fingers around his ankle, pulling him down as well. Danse hit the ghoul with his elbow. The abomination lashed out with its free hand. Danse felt a warm and wet streak sliding down his throat where the ghoul had slashed at him. He grabbed Quinn’s rifle and hit the creature again. Accompanied by a shriek, the ghoul closed its bony hands around his throat.

Arms reached out over Danse, smashing a heavy microscope into the ghoul’s head. Its skull gave in with a sickening crack and the grasp on Danse’s throat relaxed enough for him to be able to pull the disgusting limbs off him. He pushed himself up and saw Quinn standing above the ghoul, the microscope still grasped in her cramped fingers. She was shaking all over, making the light from her Pip-Boy dance around in a jerky pattern.

Danse peeled her fingers gently off the piece of lab equipment and set it aside on a table. There was a high chair at the counter next to them, so he guided her towards that and made her sit down. She had big beads of sweat on her forehead, some of them sliding down her face and making her squint as a few ended up in her eyes.

“Quinn?” His voice was hesitant. _She is burning up. I have to get her out of here. She needs a doctor right now._

“I think we just killed Wil.” The sentence was almost inaudible. Quinn drew a shaky breath, head stubbornly pointed away from where the ghoul was lying. “If this is his lab, we just killed him. My god, I killed Wil. I killed Wil.”

The sweat on her face mixed with tears as she broke down. Danse stood awkwardly to the side as she cried, her shoulders shaking. She kept repeating her last sentences until the words turned into a chopped wail. Danse patted her shoulder, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric.

“It was a ghoul. This was not the person you knew anymore.” She was still crying, but turned her head upwards towards him. Encouraged by that, he kept talking, hoping to calm her down. “The person you knew was long dead. If anything, you did him a favour. A favour for him and everyone that he got killed with his reckless behaviour.”

That was a wrong move. Quinn’s breath turned to pained gasps as she neared a panic attack. Her fingers found their way to the front of his shirt, grasping at it with despair. He let her pull him closer in and lean on his chest as she cried. He moved his arms hesitantly, wrapping them around her shaking body and making a soothing noise as if he was trying to calm down a small child. He got a flashback to when he had comforted Haylen in a similar way. She, too, had lost someone she had cared about.

He stroked her back until her sobs quieted and she let go of his shirt, her head turning to the opposite direction to avoid looking at him. He was reluctant to remove his arms from around her, afraid she might fall from the chair or do something rash in her grief if he’s not holding on to her anymore. _You’re her Commanding Officer and this is not appropriate. She will ask for support if she needs it._

He took a step away from her, not wanting to increase the awkwardness she must have been feeling. Despite her despair, she was pulling herself together to finish their mission. Eyes barely open from exhaustion, she let the light from her Pip-Boy illuminate all the corners of the lab room. A container was on a nearby counter, the metallic shine blinding them for a moment. Danse picked it up and confirmed it had _U-238_ written on the side. “We got what we’re looking for. Time to get back to the machine.”

Unfortunately, the only door was locked. Danse looked at the hole in the ceiling, considering lifting Quinn out through there. Even if she had the strength to pull herself up, he would still have been stuck in the lab and she would probably fall through a hole if she lost her balance even once on her way out. _Not an option._ The only way out was the door and that was secured through the terminal on the wall.

“Do you feel like you could hack this?” Danse looked at Quinn who nodded and tried to stand up. Her legs gave in the moment she put her weight on them, causing her to buckle to the floor.

“Can you help me to the terminal?” She still looked embarrassed, but at least she acknowledged that she would require assistance. Danse squatted down and wrapped his arm around her back, doing his best to avoid the areas that were the most damaged by the ghoul attacks. She gritted her teeth, eyes watering, but managed to stand up with his help.

Danse was impressed by her ability to handle the terminal in her condition. _She is either much tougher than I expected or she has done this so many times that she could almost literally do this in her sleep. I wouldn’t really be surprised if it were the second case, considering her actions on the Prydwen. We really need to get a security expert up there at some point to Quinn-proof the place._

Quinn entered the last command and the door slid open. Danse struggled with holding on to the isotope container and two weapons while dragging Quinn out with him and crossing the thin strip that remained of the balcony that connected Bergman’s lab to the rest of the compound.

The machine was still running the analysis he had started earlier. He lowered Quinn back to the sofa, put the rifles and the container away and returned to her side with a first aid kit. “We still have a few meds left. They should help you pull through until we get out of here.” He took out a big syringe, the vial filled with a purplish liquid. He frowned as he clinked his fingernails against the vial. Med-X was highly addictive, but it was the best painkiller they had available.

 _She should not suffer this much._ He didn’t allow himself to continue that train of thought as his subconscious told him that they might both die in that lab complex. If neither of the containers that were being analysed ended up being the missing component, he might as well go fetch the poison from the second floor to save them from further pain. His radiation sickness was not as bad as what she had, but even his pain and nausea were getting worse by the minute.

“This will make you feel better,” he explained to Quinn as she peered at the syringe with half-closed eyes. “We just have to wait for the machine to be done with the analysis. Then we can finish the experiment and get out.” _And if not…_ He coughed and sat on the edge of the sofa to administer the med-X.

Quinn winced as the needle went in and the vial emptied into her vein. “Still not as bad as rat bites,” she joked weakly. Danse smiled at that and disposed of the empty syringe. Quinn’s eyes were following his movements, brow scrunching up. “Danse, is there still something for cleaning wounds in that med kit?”

“Did the ghoul injure you?” He turned back towards her, scrutinising her body to look for new wounds. She raised an arm to point at his neck.

“No, you took all of it this time. Come here, my turn to play the nurse.” Danse obliged and sat next to her on the sofa. Her eyes were already clearer than before, but he knew that was just the kick of the chems. Her hands were shaking as she cleaned up the gash on his neck and applied a bandage to keep dirt from getting in the wound. “All done.” She gave him a small smile as she handed the kit back to him. He put it aside, taking note of how few things remained in the box.

“Thank you.” He made himself comfortable on the sofa before sitting up straight again to look at her. “Would you want me to vacate the sofa so you could take another nap?”

She waved her arm dismissively. “Nah, it’s fine. You haven’t slept at all since we came here, if I recall correctly. Just sit down and rest for a while, I won’t be able to sleep with these meds anyway. I feel weirdly energetic on this, it’s strange.”

“That’s why the Brotherhood limits the usage of med-X to extreme cases. The high it gives gets people hooked too easily and then they fool themselves into thinking they can’t achieve anything without a little chemical help.” The disdain in his voice made his mouth curl into a snarl, remembering a time when a squad mate had to be restrained during his withdrawal period.

“Yeah, I’ve seen something similar happen.” She wrapped her arms around her knees that were pulled up to her chest, her eyes focused on something in the distance. “When I was studying in CIT, there were some people who used various pills to pull off their all-nighters before exams. Of course later they had such fucked up sleeping patterns that they kept going through the semester like that until their bodies gave in. Quite a few of them ended up in the hospital before they admitted they had a problem.”

Danse was surprised. Not by the chem usage – he knew such vices were common even before the Great War. No, he was surprised that Quinn was telling him anything about her pre-war life without being wasted out of her mind while doing so. _Then again, med-X is a worse offender than liquor._

“What was it like?” He paused and refined the question. “I mean, what was it like to go to CIT? Was it something like these labs, with experiments and innovation?”

She took a moment to think, her tongue darting out to wet her chapped lips. “Uh… yes and no. I mean, there was all the theoretical material we had to learn before we were allowed to even think about stepping inside a lab. But yes, after a certain amount of time most of the courses turned more practical than theoretical. That’s where the real fun started.”

A smile spread over her face, remembering her student years. “I pretty much lived in CIT for a few years. Nate was off on his deployments more often than he was home. I didn’t really want to go to the empty apartment, so I stayed on campus until the last places shut down. I joined any and all after-class activities that seemed even remotely interesting to me. A small acting club? Sure, it’s a great way to practise lying to my mother whenever she tries to get me to visit her. A group of students gathering to practise writing code and hacking existing code? Count me fucking in!”

Her expression turned melancholy and she wiped her face with a sleeve, removing some of the gathered sweat. “That’s how I met Wil, Jon and Ericka. They were all older students when I was a lowly freshman. Whatever faults they had, they all believed in educating others. So they were in quite a few of those clubs as well, helping rookies learn.”

Danse reached for two of the bottles he had stashed around the sofa. He opened one and handed it to Quinn before claiming the other bottle. The water had an odd after-taste, but it was still drinkable. Quinn poured half of hers down her throat in one go, barely stopping to swallow.

“Ahh, thank you. Now where was I… ah yes, the clubs. Well, my studies were mostly concerning robotics and artificial intelligence, so I didn’t have much to do with ordinary terminals. Most of the stuff I knew came from my schoolyears where I fixed up schoolmates’ electronical equipment for a fee. Helped me buy some food whenever mother had wasted all the money on her skank-ass vodka again.”

“You studied artificial intelligence?” Danse’s eyes widened. _She might be more of an asset against the Institute than she realises. Could she reprogram synths?_

“It was nothing as impressive as you’d think it was,” responded Quinn, sloshing some water on her trousers as she waved the bottle around. “I mean, it was mostly some basic crap. I could handle a Mister Handy and other smaller things like that, but those robots were always under the control of their code. None of the stuff we dealt with was about properly self-determining machines like what those newer Institute synths are. I mean, of course we toyed around with the idea, but always as a theoretical future possibility, not anything real.”

“Ah, you got what I was aiming at. That is unfortunate, such skills would be really useful in understanding how the Institute creates the nightmares they send to the Commonwealth.” He finished his bottle and put it aside, his thirst demanding another one. He refrained from taking a new bottle of water, since Quinn would need it more than he did and he didn’t know how long they would remain stuck in that hellhole.

“Yeah, can’t really help with that. I can make a mean targeting system for a turret though. And thanks to Wil’s not entirely legal teachings there should be very few terminals that are safe from me.” She laughed, her eyes squinting in mirth. “I kind of get his reasoning. If companies were stupid enough to sell terminals with gaping security holes, it wasn’t really that bad to exploit those holes. I mean, it was their own fault for not hiring proper professionals, if even students could crack their security.”

Danse couldn’t agree with that statement, but he was too engrossed in her story to ruin it by scolding her. Her memories and experience were a treasure trove, really. The only people who knew what pre-war life was like were some ghouls (with whom he was not about to have any kind of discussions, even if they weren’t feral yet) and this woman sitting next to him on that tattered sofa. The kind of things that he had only read about had been her everyday life. He found it fascinating.

A low beep from the machine interrupted their chat. The analysis was ready. He rushed to check the results, his heartrate spiking with anxiety. That result would determine whether Quinn could still be saved before radiation did irreparable damage to her internal organs. His vision was getting blurry, forcing him to squint to read the bright green letters on the screen.

“Tungsten.” He wasn’t entirely sure anymore, but this was probably not what they had been looking for. One glance at Quinn’s worried face confirmed his suspicion. He wiped his brow that was developing a thin film of sticky sweat and concentrated on the screen again. “Gold.” He looked at it again to be sure. “Gold! That was the other one we needed, right?”

“Yes!” In her excitement, Quinn found the strength to get up and walk over to the machine. “That’s it! Gold and lithium hydride. Now we just have to put them both in here and I guess the isotope goes in the other clamp on the right. We did it, Danse!”

She held her arm up in the air for a high five. Danse laughed in relief and clapped his hand against hers, holding on to it for a moment before they both let their arms fall down again. With feverish speed, Quinn helped him set up the machine for the production process. Both were holding their breath as the entire machine powered up, the whining of the engine filling the room with eerie noise. Their jubilant feeling was somewhat dampened by another progress bar that was ever so slowly moving towards the end, the machine grinding along.

“This will take ages,” groaned Quinn. She faltered and leaned heavily against the machine, nearly pushing a few of the buttons. _I guess the med-X high is already wearing off. Damn faulty old chems._ He helped her hobble back to the sofa, where she slumped down with a faint smile on her face.

“Hey, Danse. Stop looking so glum. We did it, we’ll be getting out. As soon as that stupid machine is done, we’ll be out of here and never coming back. Someone else can come and pick up all the stuff and record the instructions on the terminals, I will not set my foot in here again.” Her mouth quivered, erasing the smile. “Do you think someone would agree to bury Wil though? He was pretty much my mentor through my worst years in CIT; feels wrong to leave him to rot here.”

“I will put in a request.” He tried to mask his disdain and lied through his teeth. _As much as he meant to her, this is not happening._ He knew no Brotherhood soldier would waste their time to bury a ghoul. The most they would do was to drag the bodies to a field and burn them, if the compound were to be used at some point. Whatever his own sentiments on the topic were, he was not about to tell Quinn about them. The last thing she needed in her condition was to worry about dead bodies.

She had started shivering again. Danse fetched the jacket and wrapped it around her, despite her protests that she was fine. “Try to get some sleep. The meds will wear off soon and I’d rather not inject you with anything more if that can be avoided. And yes, I will wake you once the process is done.”

She looked like her mind was ready to argue with him, but the body was giving up. She tried lying down, but pushed herself back into a seated position with a hand clasped over her mouth. After a while, her arm slid down next to her, a frown on her face as she drifted off to sleep. Danse had intended to stay awake to watch over the process and her health, but tiredness took over shortly after he sat on a chair next to the machine.

Danse woke with a start, a piercing beeping noise letting him know that the process was finally finished. Feeling disoriented due to his sudden wake-up call, he stumbled as he got up. A cloud of dust flew into the air, making him cough. Having cleared his eyes, he squinted at the terminal. It claimed the production test was a success. But where was the result? There had to be something he could show to that blasted robot so they’d be released.

He found an opening with a conveyer belt. Reaching through the rubber flaps that concealed the view, he touched something metal. It had a very familiar shape. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled it out.

 _A power armour chest plate? That’s it? It’s done?_ He turned to share the news with Quinn, but the noise had not woken her. She had drooped towards her right side, head lolling without support. A string of blood and saliva trailed from her mouth to the sofa. _No. No-no-no. Please be alive._

Danse rushed to her, letting the chest plate fall to the floor next to the sofa. He used the cleanest part of the jacket to wipe the blood off her face and put two fingers on her neck to check for a pulse. He let out a breath of relief as he felt the heartbeat. It was weak, but still there. Despite his nausea and rising headache, he grabbed the power armour piece and hurried to the clean room.

He banged on the window, trying to catch the robot’s attention. “Come here! We finished the experiment. Let us out!” His voice was not as loud as he had hoped, so he punctuated his shouts with more thumps against the glass. His rage was calling bloody murder by the time Molly floated into his line of sight.

He shoved the power armour plate against the window for the robot to see. “See, we did it. The result is here. Open the damn door.”

Molly moved closer to inspect the object through the window. The rusty arms spun into action in excitement. “Splendid! Let me just open this. I’m sure the director would want to see you.” Danse considered punching one of its eyes out as the robot opened the door, but refrained from doing so. It would not help him nor Quinn if he started a fist fight with a malfunctioning robot. Instead, he let the power armour piece fall to the ground and rushed back to the main research room.

Having strapped both rifles to his back once more, he picked Quinn up from the sofa to carry her out of the labs. She was completely blacked out, her head dangling from side to side until it slid against his chest and stopped there. Even with his own beginnings of fever, he could feel the heat of her body burning his arms and chest. _By steel, if she dies like this, it will be my fault. I should have taken over earlier. I should have said something about leaving our armour behind. I should have-_

His thoughts got cut off. He had rushed past Molly, who still insisted they should see the director, and reached the reception area. Before he could push the main doors open with his shoulder, someone else opened them from the outside, nearly toppling him over.

“Paladin Danse?” Rhys looked at him with a concerned frown. “We came to find you after you didn’t return from the mission. You’ve been gone for two days.”

 _Two days? Did I fall asleep at some point before? How could it have been this long?_ Rhys was still standing there expectantly, two other soldiers behind him. “We got locked in. Managed to break out only now. Got hit with rads; Knight Quinn needs immediate medical assistance.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward, offering to carry Quinn as the Paladin himself didn’t look overly well. He refused, tightening his hold around her passed out form. “I can do this. She got heavily radiated and it would be tactically irresponsible to spread the rads any further. I’m already hit as well, so it doesn’t make much of a difference in my case.”

He pointed his head towards the building behind him. “Retrieve our armour and backpacks from the dressing room. A bit further is a piece of power armour that Proctor Ingram would find interesting.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “And Rhys, put down that robot in the reception area. That pile of metal has caused enough harm.”

“With pleasure.” Rhys grabbed his rifle, ready to go. Danse turned his attention to the third soldier who was still waiting for orders.

“Initiate, you shall cover me on our way back to the base. The others will catch up as soon as they are done clearing this compound of valuable assets.” Quinn seemed to become heavier in his arms with every moment that passed, but this was his burden to carry. He got her into that and he was the one who would get her back to safety. It was his duty to ensure the safety of those under his command and he had to get at least something right. _I can still make this right._

With a heavy heart and an even heavier burden, he headed back towards the base, Quinn’s clammy face accusing him every step of the way.


	12. Covert Action

“Come on! You can’t keep me in here forever. I have to finish my damn Knight Exam _before_ I die of old age!” Quinn’s frustrated outburst was the first thing Danse heard as he entered the infirmary.

Knight-Captain Cade looked as if he had eaten a sour mutfruit. “You are still healing; I cannot release you for field duty. Every time you ask – or rather demand – I will just delay your discharge for bugging me about it.”

Quinn ripped off a piece of open skin and threw it in Cade’s general direction. The new skin underneath was an unpleasant shade of pink. “Shedding skin like a fucking snake is no reason to keep me in here! I need to get back in the field!”

Danse suppressed a smile. A part of him was pleased to see Cade struggling with his patient. _She’s really not making it easy on him. That’s his payment for constantly keeping people in after they should be cleared for duty._ He shot a look at Quinn who was sitting in the middle of the mess in her bed and staring Cade down. _In her case, however, it’s justified._

He decided to join the argument to provide Cade with back-up. “He is right, you would just go and gather new injuries the moment you are released.” Both heads turned towards Danse, acknowledging his presence for the first time.

Quinn squinted at Danse, lips pursed in annoyance. “Et tu, Brute?” Cade seemed just as confused as he was, so Danse assumed this was another one of her strange pre-war sayings. Quinn flopped back onto the pillows she had piled up against the wall. “This is _imprisonment_! That’s not what I signed up for, damnit.”

“Deal with it.” Cade seemed to have been pushed to his limits. He gathered a handful of documents, a scowl plastered on his face, and turned to leave. “An initiate will come by with your dinner. Try to rein in that temper of yours, it will not help the healing process.”

“Getting the hell out of here would help my healing process!” Cade ignored Quinn’s shout as he hastily retreated to the corridor. Danse shook his head. _Doctors. Always worrying too much._ He took a hesitant step towards Quinn. Considering he had been avoiding the infirmary ever since he got discharged, he wasn’t sure she would be glad to see him.

“Well, take a seat.” Quinn pointed at the chair near her bed. “Haylen has done her daily check-up on her grumpy friend, so the chair is all yours. Come and entertain me.” She looked pale and exhausted, making Danse wonder where those bursts of energy were coming from. Cade was probably still medicating her every day to keep the pain at bearable levels.

Danse took a seat, leaning forward with curiosity. “Why are you so insistent on getting out when your skin can barely even handle clothes?” He paused when Quinn shot him a confused glance. “Yes, Haylen has been giving me updates. I know you’ve been scratching yourself red and kicking off the covers every night. Why would you think you’d be ready for power armour like this?”

“Because I’ve been here _forever_ and I’m going insane and I need to get back on track with the lead on my son at some point and I’m wasting both my life and his by being locked up in this goddamn infirmary.” She said all of that in one breath, fingers drumming on the bed. “Seriously, how come you got out this early and I’m threatened with a week of shining power armours if I try to get away?”

“You’re less scary than I am.” Danse smiled as she responded with an indignant snort.

“I’m plenty scary!” Her stare only amused him further.

“You look as if a gentle gust of wind could knock you over. This setback after we had finally managed to shape you into a soldier… what a waste.” He dodged when Quinn launched a pillow at him and let out a short laugh. “At least you’re still just as stubborn as before. That is probably a sign of healing in your case.”

She looked as if she wanted to stick a tongue out at him, but reconsidered at the last moment. Her eyes lit up as she came up with a plan. “Hey, you know everyone ever and probably know stuff that could be used as leverage. I bet you could get me out of here. As a favour. For not telling Ingram how your power armour got blown up.” She looked almost devilish as she grinned at him.

“Blackmailing me will only get you extra laps to run once you’re fully healed.” He picked up the pillow she had thrown at him and placed it back on the bed. “I can however see whether there’s a chance to get you walking around and doing minor jobs on the Prydwen, if you are that anxious to make yourself useful. I’m sure Haylen would appreciate your help with whatever Ingram has her doing this week.”

“That’s the wrong kind of useful at the moment.” She seemed to be struggling with something, trying to decide whether she should talk about it. Eventually she took a deep breath – as she usually did before saying something Danse wished he would not have heard – and opened up. “I need to get out to go to Goodneighbour. You know, the city that nobody here has dared to even visit due to its reputation.”

“And what exactly would you be doing there?” Danse leaned back, making himself comfortable. _This should be interesting. If only her interesting ideas wouldn’t usually end up with one or both of us injured…_

She fiddled with the edge of her blanket, trying to find the right words. “I need to have a mechanical piece of a brain checked out to hopefully get some information off it. It’s from the head of the asshole who kidnapped my son. That’s probably my last chance to find Shaun and I’ve delayed it long enough, doing stuff for the Brotherhood. And now I’m stuck to a bed instead of doing that last mission for my Knight Exam and getting Kells to approve my leave.”

Danse frowned, leaning forward again. “Let me get this right – you want to go alone into a city that the Brotherhood has been avoiding due to danger, equipped with a piece of a brain and what, peeling skin?”

She acquired that all-too-familiar stubborn scowl. “Yes. I mean no. I’m not going to be throwing strips of skin at people. That would probably work as well on others as it did on Cade, as in not at all. I’d have my rifle with me – that is, if I can figure out a way to sling it over my shoulder without chafing myself too badly. Oh, and I have to drop by Diamond City as well, because Nick is coming with me.”

“Absolutely not.” Danse slammed his fist on the arm of the chair, nearly breaking the flimsy plastic. “If you wanted to ensure you will be stuck here even longer, you have succeeded in that. I am not going to let my soldier run off on a suicide mission.” She opened her mouth to protest, but Danse cut her off as he stood up. “That’s my final decision, Knight. Focus on healing, not getting yourself killed, running around with synths.”

He was glad she managed to hold her tongue until he had left the infirmary. He was not keen on disciplining his soldier who was clearly acting out fever and fear for her son’s wellbeing. At least he could pretend he hadn’t heard the curses she muttered once he was out of the room.

The visit to the infirmary had taken longer than planned. By the time he reached the Elder’s quarters, the table was already set and the man himself was leaning back on his chair, an open beer in his hand.

Danse shut the door behind him before greeting the Elder. “Evening, Arthur.” Danse wouldn’t have been caught dead addressing the Elder so casually in front of others. In fact, he had insisted on only calling him Elder Maxson after his friend had assumed the position. That was the expected behaviour and the appropriate level of respect. In private, however, Maxson wanted to retain at least some remnants of his former life. It had taken Danse a while to get used to calling him Arthur again, but the sentiment behind the Elder’s request pleased him.

“You took your sweet time.” Maxson extended a leg to push the chair opposite him out from underneath the table, creating an awful scraping noise. “What duties kept you tonight?”

“Had to check up on one of my soldiers. Haylen worries about her, so I promised to see whether I can do anything to make Knight Quinn accept her bedrest. She keeps trying to take off.” Danse took a seat and caught the bottle of beer that Maxson threw him. The Elder’s mouth curved in a wry smile.

“A situation you recognise from your own experience, no doubt.” Danse feigned ignorance, but Maxson wasn’t so easily fooled. “Oh, I’ve heard. Cade was very frustrated about your self-prescribed discharge. Or rather just taking off one night, as he put it. He had to send a Scribe to check on you as you refused to return. Rebellious.”

Danse gave an uncomfortable cough and placed the unopened bottle next to his plate. “I decided my presence in the infirmary was not needed for my healing process. It only served to distress other patients.”

Maxson gave him the kind of stare that seemed to go through him. “The dreams again? You know Cade has meds for that. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep. Don’t let yourself be taken down by this.”

“It’s more of a hindrance if I take those meds. I can function perfectly well on little sleep, but those pills would make me fall asleep in my power armour. I’ll do without them.”

“To each their own.” Maxson picked up his cutlery and nodded at Danse to start eating as well. “It might be a bit cold by now, an Initiate dropped food off a while ago already.”

They both dug in, eating in silence for a while. Danse felt embarrassed about their previous topic. It made him feel weak, being woken by night terrors like a scared child. He knew a lot of soldiers suffered from that, but it didn’t make him feel any better about his own situation.

Maxson was the first to break the silence. “I read the reports on the Cambridge Polymer Labs mission. Some interesting tech was recovered, not to mention material on Liberty Prime. I was not aware that a company in the Commonwealth possessed information on that. It was a good find.”

“The mission could have gone better.” Danse tried to banish the image of the glowing one from his head, especially the moment he stormed in to see the ghoul drowning Quinn in the shallow pool of water. _I should have been there. I could have prevented that._

“Missions can always go better, but this one revealed some vital information related to our next big goal. That counts as a success in my books.” He looked right through Danse and his insecurities once more. “You are worried about your own performance. You knew going in that it would be difficult to give up control. Nevertheless, you managed to create a valuable learning experience for your Knight, retrieved important data and brought both of you out alive. She is shaping up to be a very useful recruit. A niche soldier, useful in a narrow field of work.”

Maxson took a gulp of beer, a pensive look on his face. “I have been thinking about making some changes to the Brotherhood structure, creating more specialised groups instead of training soldiers in all possible fields. The current situation has led to having many soldiers with catch-all qualifications, but close to none who are field-ready for highly specialised missions.”

Danse raised his eyebrows. That was definitely an interesting approach. It worked for Scribes, so why not for soldiers? “What would the specialisations be?”

“Nearly all troops are already specialised in heavy infantry right now. What we need is diversity. I’ve come to think that taking a different approach can sometimes get better results. Like with your last mission – had you shot down the robot and looked through the compound, it would have been highly unlikely to get Ingram that power armour piece and the accompanying data. This is a huge asset to the Brotherhood and it would not have been uncovered if it hadn’t been for your Knight’s novel approach to the mission.”

“So you want to train soldiers to be as reckless as she was?” Danse snorted, imagining an entire squad of Quinns. _Terrifying. Then she would actually be “plenty scary” as she said._

“Undercover ops, Danse. Such soldiers can persuade civilians to part with information without giving away their affiliations. This is an opportunity to gather intel on the Institute and those pseudo-militaristic Minutemen. We could also find out whether the rumours of Railroad are true. If there truly exists a group that smuggles synths out, it is our duty to find them. They must know the location of the Institute.”

“And they would not part with that information if they knew they were talking to someone from the Brotherhood.” Danse was starting to understand what Maxson was aiming at. Even though they were new to the Commonwealth, the reputation of the Brotherhood preceded their arrival. He had encountered the reluctance of civilians to share information on his brief visit to Diamond City. _This is why he is the Elder. That idea is brilliant._

He was ready to eat his words with what Maxson said next. “Precisely. That’s why I am appointing you as the head of our new Covert Ops department.”

Danse sputtered through the water he had started drinking. He coughed his throat clear before responding. “I am honoured, Arthur… but power armour does not work well with going incognito.”

“So you will go without. You have recently been doing that a lot. Your reports detail how much you have already learned from that alternate approach to missions. Here is your chance to keep learning.”

Maxson took another sip and gave Danse one of his rare smiles. “I wouldn’t want anyone else in charge of this. It will be only you and a few select soldiers and scribes at first, a pilot project of sorts. If this works out, we can create more squads for undercover missions. You already have a head start with Knight Quinn. I really must commend you on your work with that recruit. She had a rocky start, but you have succeeded in teaching her the true values of the Brotherhood.”

An idea struck Danse’s head. _Undercover ops, gathering information… we could get information out of that synth that Quinn wants to use for finding her son. She would have an excuse to go to Goodneighbour and I could gather intel that benefits the Brotherhood._

“If you’re serious about making these covert ops work, I have an idea for the first targets. Diamond City and Goodneighbour are two of the biggest nearby cities, with an abundance of information waiting to be uncovered. Knight Quinn has good persuasion skills, so she could undoubtedly make the citizens part with some intel. This kind of a mission would even be doable in her current condition.”

He tried sounding as casual as possible to not tip Maxson off about any ulterior motives. It would have been a lot easier to just tell him why these places should be the first to investigate – after all, Quinn believed the Institute was behind the kidnapping – but he could not break the promise he had made to her. The information was hers to part with, not for him to spread around.

“That is a great idea.” Maxson nodded in approval. “So it would be you, Knight Quinn… and I recommend taking a scribe or two.”

Danse frowned. He had not thought of that. _For an actual mission, it makes sense. We should have someone to take note of everything we discover and to deal with possible technical and medical issues._ “If Ingram can spare Haylen for some days, I would preferably take her. We are going to need a good cover story. She and Quinn could pass for sisters, plus they have bonded as fellow squad members.”

“Seems like a good plan. Make it so.” Maxson lifted his bottle again and noticed Danse had not even opened his beer. “Not in the mood to drink?”

Danse made a noncommittal noise. “I’ve had alcohol once since being dispatched to the Commonwealth. That did not end well.”

Amusement spreading on his face, Maxson let out a short laugh. “Can’t have been as bad as whoever ended up showering Knight Dresden with vomit while he was patrolling. I heard him complaining in the corridors.”

“Yes, at least it wasn’t that bad,” agreed Danse, trying to retain a neutral expression. “Nevertheless, I shall leave that beer for you. Thank you for dinner, Arthur, and the food for thought. I will brief the squad for the mission.” He stood up, ready to leave. “I appreciate the confidence you have in me, even when I doubt my abilities. You have always brought out the best in your subordinates.”

“I trust you will not fail me.” Maxson gave Danse another nod and dismissed him.

* * *

Danse had to admit he was in a surprisingly good mood. Spring was slowly approaching and the promise of colours all over the Wasteland gave him a more positive outlook on everything. He had loved spring since he was a small kid. If nature could survive an apocalypse and come back in full swing, anything could be possible. This was of course something he did not discuss with fellow soldiers, since Cutler’s jabs at him being a big sappy flower-lover had been sufficient. _Damn, I miss him._

He could still see the way Cutler’s mouth curved in a mischievous smile every time they were about to start a new mission. He treated all missions as adventures, a chance to discover something new. _He would have loved being on a covert ops squad. He would fit right in, bluffing his way through the cities. He could even pose as a sibling of Haylen and Quinn and nobody would think anything was out of place._

Danse felt like the odd one out on this mission. Their cover story had Haylen and Quinn posing as sisters from a settlement a ways North-West from Cambridge Police Station. Their role in the settlement was fortifying the defences, so they had the perfect excuse to visit the cities. Building new turrets needed new pieces and these two knew exactly what to look for.

Finding a suitable role for Danse had been the difficult part. Quinn had toyed with the idea of introducing him as a farmer, but the amount of laughter from Haylen proved that to be a terrible plan. In the end they settled for a settlement guard. That would explain his proficiency with weapons and gave his character a good reason to join the “sisters” – with all the scrap metal they planned to carry back home, they needed someone to help them with the load and ensure their safety on the road.

Caught in the excitement of creating new identities, Quinn had insisted on code names, but Danse killed that idea. They were going to struggle enough with staying in character and adding another thing to keep in mind would not make the task any easier. Haylen and Quinn sounded like plausible first names and Danse… well, he would just look menacing enough to discourage people from asking about his name.

Everything about the mission felt rushed. With Quinn’s anxiety over delays, the preparation time had been shorter than Danse would have wanted. Even though they had planned appropriate outfits for Commonwealth settlers, the thought that their weapons ought to match their roles struck them only after they had set out for Diamond City. Haylen had hastily come up with the explanation that a vertibird had crashed near their settlement and they acquired Brotherhood rifles from there, but it was a sloppy patch on their story that was already full of holes. _It’s only a matter of time until one of us slips up with something._

Despite all these issues and his worry about travelling with a soldier who was still recovering from radiation sickness, the lovely weather did not allow Danse to be glum. Even he was getting caught up in the excitement of his squad members. Quinn was almost skipping as they walked through the destroyed streets of Boston. Danse was glad she refrained from actually doing so; it would have looked ridiculous. He could not blame her for wanting to celebrate – after all, she had ended up getting her way and got out of the infirmary before Cade wanted to release her.

Haylen had a similar spring in her step. As much as she appreciated being stationed on the Prydwen to help Ingram with the materials recovered from Cambridge Polymer Labs, she had always been more of a boots on the ground kind of woman. Danse was glad to have her on his squad once again – Haylen had proven to be nothing short of excellent in everything she did and he had missed going on missions with her.

His thoughts were interrupted by Quinn lightly elbowing him in the side. She beamed up at him, eyes shining. “This idea was really fucking brilliant. Seriously, Danse, I could kiss you right now!” The awkward silence that followed made Quinn stop in her tracks. “Jeez, you two, it’s a saying! I’m not going to _actually_ kiss you.”

Haylen seemed to be torn between being mortified at the casual way Quinn was addressing her superior and being amused by the dumbfounded expression on Danse’s face. Amusement won and she chuckled. “Rein in your excitement or you could pull something with skipping around. Remember, you’re still not fully recovered.”

“Oh believe me, I know.” Quinn scrunched her nose. “The lecture Cade gave me before he let me leave the infirmary could have rivalled the way Danse told me off when I had just started as an Initiate.”

“Make sure you take care of yourself while on the mission or he will lock you up in the infirmary the moment you set foot on the Prydwen again.” Danse was joking, but he wasn’t sure Cade would actually shy away from doing that. It can’t have been easy to be in charge of the medical care of people who seemed to insist on getting themselves torn to shreds every time they embarked on a mission.

The smell of noodles and medical ointments hit their noses as the squad entered Diamond City. The place was bustling with life. Citizens and travellers were bartering for goods on the market; the salespeople seemingly competing over who could be the loudest and sell their goods in the most obnoxious way. A young girl was standing on her tiptoes next to the newspaper stand, calling everyone to buy the newest edition of Publick Occurrences. That voice was all too familiar to Danse. He had been forced to listen to this for days as he was recovering from his gunshot in the nearby infirmary. Despite her age, the girl had powerful lungs.

It made him angry to see a child being forced to work this much. Judging by the time of day, she should have been in school, learning and getting to know other kids her age. It wasn’t right of the owners of the newspaper to use child labour like that.

“We should probably get one,” suggested Haylen, tilting her head towards the pile of newspapers in the girl’s hands. “Might give us a head start on where to look for information.” Quinn looked impatient at the delay, but agreed with the idea. They approached the newspaper stand, leaving Quinn to do the talking.

“How much for the paper, sweetie?” asked Quinn with a friendly smile. She was met with a scowl from the kid.

“Lady, you must be new in town. It’s five caps as it’s always been.” She held out her hand for the money and Quinn counted five caps from her cap pouch. “And it’s Nat, not sweetie.”

That made Quinn grin. She accepted the paper with a curtsey. “My apologies, Nat. I thought I was talking to a kid, but you’re a proper adult.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?” Danse had not planned to interfere, but the situation bothered him. Nat may have been trying to act like an adult, but she was still a child. She couldn’t have been more than twelve years old.

“Got suspended for punching a boy in the mouth.” Nat shoved the caps in her pocket that was already bulging from everything in there. “He talked smack about my sister.”

Danse wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Haylen took over, thanking Nat for the paper and ushering the three of them away from the newspaper stand. “I thought the point of a covert op was to be inconspicuous,” she said in a low voice. “That kid will probably remember us.”

“We’re going to have to talk to people at some point,” shrugged Quinn, unfolding the newspaper as she walked. “Hey, they have a story about synths.” She stopped suddenly, making Danse bump into her. He had to grab her shoulders to make sure neither would fall.

“A little warning next time?” He frowned and released his grasp on her, but Quinn didn’t seem to notice any of that. She was engrossed in the writing in front of her.

“Jesus, they had a synth shooting up the place out of nowhere. Everyone thought it was a normal person, until his cheek started twitching one day and he shot everyone in sight.” A shiver passed over her and she looked up from the paper. “Seriously, imagine knowing someone for years and then suddenly you find out it’s a machine that pretended to be a human so you’d let your guard down. And then it kills you, just like that.”

“What confuses me about this is the apparent lack of motive.” Haylen shook her head in disbelief. “Why do something like this? Instilling fear in people just for the sake of it is pointless, there has to be something they want out of it. What is the Institute’s endgame here?”

“Making people scared enough so that when they offer an unpleasant deal, it seems like the best option available? Less resistance that way.” Quinn gave a humourless smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone used intimidation tactics to soften people up for their plans. Could even be that the Institute itself does not exist or does exist but is pretty much powerless. And then some kind of superpower swoops in and offers protection from the Institute. And lo and behold, people accept that! Because the new guys have powerful guns and they can protect them. It’s only later, when all power has been handed over, that the real intentions get revealed.”

This speculation made Danse feel uncomfortable. Something about it felt almost offensive to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Fortunately, the conversation got switched to a more pleasant topic as the wind changed and smell of noodles hit them all with new power.

“I think we may need a stop at the noodle stand.” Quinn had already turned towards the source of the smell, Haylen sticking to her side. As Danse had not made a move to join them, Quinn turned around with a grin. “Come on, Danse. It’s lunchtime and a wise man taught me that it’s tactically irresponsible to skip meals.”

They found three free bar stools under the red awning of the noodle place. Danse wiped his off gingerly before sitting down. He made a double take as a rusty protectron with a chef’s hat turned around to address them. “Nan-ni shimasu-ka?”

“Just say yes,” prompted Quinn. Of course, she had probably visited the place while he had been knocked out on painkillers. Feeling odd, Danse did as instructed. Steaming bowls of noodles were quickly delivered to all three of them. Quinn paid by sliding some caps in the worn box on the counter.

Danse had to hand it to the robot, it really knew how to make noodles. The meal was perfect on the windy spring day, warming him up and giving him a pleasantly full feeling despite the moderate size of the portion.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The familiar drawl triggered Danse’s instinct to reach for his weapon as he turned around. Sure enough, the synth detective was there, walking closer to the noodle stand. Quinn, the recipient of Nick’s greeting, spluttered in her bowl. _I take it that she has not told Haylen about the synth._

Danse leaned to the side to put his free hand on the Scribe’s arm before she would manage to shoot Nick or say something to break their cover. As much as it would have pleased him to lodge a bullet in the smug bastard’s head, Quinn needed his help. He leaned towards Haylen’s ear to whisper. “Say nothing. I will explain later.”

Having coughed her throat clear of noodles, Quinn returned Nick’s greeting. “I was just about to come look for you. I really did not mean to come back so late, this was the earliest time I was free to move around again. But please, I’ll meet you in your office so we can discuss how and when to proceed. Things are… complicated.” Quinn’s expression was begging him to not say anything.

“Alright, I have some free time right now. I’ll walk you there.” Nick’s glowing eyes fixated on Danse, recognising him. “Danse.”

“Valentine.” The name crossed Danse’s lips with a snarl, fingers still twitching around his rifle. _Leave him be. Now is not the time._ “Quinn, we will join you in ten minutes. That should be plenty of time for you to discuss what you need and for me to bring Haylen up to speed. Ten minutes sharp.”

“Sure.” Quinn pushed her bowl away and got up in haste. “Just… don’t…” She frowned, stumbling over her words. Danse could read between the lines, she was worried about what he would be telling Haylen.

“Nothing you wouldn’t say, don’t worry.” He sounded more brusque than planned. The curiosity radiating from Haylen was practically burning him by the time Quinn was outside hearing distance. _This really should have been planned better. Damnit, Quinn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for a casual meet-up between Danse and Maxson came from a chat with ScorpioSkies. Since Danse addresses Maxson as Arthur several times in the game, it's evident that they have a past and were probably friends before Maxson became the Elder. I wanted to explore that side a bit and also show Maxson's tactical thinking. He is a total douchecanoe, but he is good at his job. Otherwise he wouldn't have brought the Brotherhood together like he did.


	13. Portal to the Past

Neon signs emerged from the darkness, the clashing colours proudly proclaiming the location of Goodneighbour. A quick scan of the surroundings told Danse that there were no guards positioned outside the shabby walls. _That's odd for a city that claims to be one of the biggest in the Commonwealth._

Nick stopped them before they got any closer to the gates. He reached for a cigarette and lit it in a quick move before leaning closer to talk.

"That's Goodneighbour over there. Now I know you Brotherhood types don't take kindly to anything that isn't a hundred percent human in your eyes, but try to not show that much there. If you want… ah… material for your mission, I suggest you keep your mouths shut unless you can be sure nothing offensive comes out. The laws of Goodneighbour are pretty lax on removing bigots who clearly don't belong there."

Danse was quietly seething inside. As if it wasn't bad enough that Quinn had used those ten minutes alone with the synth to tell him about the squad and compromise the mission by giving him information on their goals, now he had to take the mechanical abomination's cues on social behaviour? This called for a serious talk with Quinn once they could have some privacy. The company of the synth was not suitable for such discussions.

Nick had to remind the three Brotherhood members to relax as they passed through the gates. They needed to blend in, which was already proving to be near-impossible as their group of four stuck out like a sore thumb among the people of Goodneighbour.

Despite the late hour, the city was far from dead. Flashy neon lights enticed locals and visitors to buy weapons, armour, food and any kind of gadgets imaginable. Even chem sales were not secret and tucked away behind dodgy corners. The main street was littered with several shops that promised huge varieties of different chems and locally made alterations to the generally known versions of that trash.

The main clamour came from the drinking holes that were as abundant as fleas on a wild dog. Every empty nook had been turned into a bar of sorts, with the most popular ones spilling their flow of clients on the streets. The smell of urine, alcohol and decay was overwhelming, but it did not seem to bother the locals.

The place was a disgusting mess. Danse's initial impression only worsened as he realised that most people around were ghouls. This place was dangerous. If a single synth could cause chaos and destruction in Diamond City, it was a wonder this place still stood. In such a mess of abominations and dangerous-looking people, anyone could turn out to be a mass murderer. A ghoul could go feral or a synth could have a glitch in its code and dozens would die.

His fingers were itching for his rifle, but he tried to mask his disdain and apprehension. Haylen and Quinn at his sides were similarly alarmed. This was not what any of them had expected. It wasn't a city, it was a camp of abominations and criminals of all sorts.

"What exactly is this place?" Quinn looked around with an intrigued frown on her face. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Goodneighbour is the first place to look when someone ends up missing." Nick breathed out a cloud of smoke, temporarily shrouding his glowing eyes in the haze. "Either they have come here on their own to hide in the crowd or someone here was probably involved in their disappearance as a witness or perpetrator."

"Seems like the best course of action to clean this place would be to burn it to the ground." Danse's lip curled in a snarl as he stepped aside, avoiding collision with a ghoul that had stumbled in his direction.

"If I were you, I'd keep such judgements to myself, especially in public." Nick gave him a stern look. He tapped the cigarette with his metal index finger and took another puff. "Now, we could go to the Memory Den right now, but I'm afraid it would be too much for kiddo here. Might be best to retire for the night and continue on the morrow."

_Kiddo? There's children out in this mess of criminals?_ Danse's confusion dissipated as he spotted the annoyed look on Quinn's face. _Ah. That "kiddo"._

"I've wasted too much time already. I want to go _now_." The resolute squint of her eyes left no doubt that she meant it. The neon lights did no favours to her looks, painting her already sickly skin in a green hue that highlighted the radiation damage she had sustained. Danse would have preferred to have her at least rest for a while since the day in Diamond City and the walk to Goodneighbour had been taxing on her, but he did not want to get into a public argument. Nick seemed to have a similar idea.

"Alright, if you're sure about it." Nick took a new puff from his cigarette as he guided them through the labyrinth of streets, expertly avoiding all drunk and high people who were staggering around. _He must like it here. Among normal people he sticks out, but in the middle of this freak show, nobody would even give him a second glance._ Danse did his best to keep a neutral expression that wouldn't display his disdain for all to see.

The Memory Den was situated in a building that had probably been stunning back in the day. Some remnants of former glory remained, with the walls still covered in royal red wallpapers and the worn out furniture looking more fancy than anything else Danse had seen in his life. Red seemed to be the theme there, since even the woman who greeted Nick was wearing a deep burgundy dress.

"Well-well. Mister Valentine," said the woman in a husky voice, leaning on the one-sided sofa with her arm elegantly draped over the side. "I thought you had forgotten about little ol' me."

Nick gave a low chuckle and tipped his hat to greet her. "I may have walked out of the Den, Irma, but I'd never walk out on you."

Danse was confused by this. Irma was clearly glad to see Nick, even though she was not an abomination of any kind herself. She was the most normal human he had seen in that dump of a city, yet she was nearly flirting with the synth. None of it made sense.

Irma's red lips curled in a smile. "You're toying with me, Valentine. Amari is downstairs, you big flirt."

Haylen was eyeing the surroundings with curiosity as they descended to the lower level of the building. "Was this a theatre before the war? I've read about those, I find the concept rather fascinating."

"It was a theatre indeed. And a beautiful one." Nick opened the door at the end of the corridor and allowed everyone else to enter before he did. They found themselves in a small room with odd machinery and a dark-haired woman who stood from her desk to greet the guests.

"Doctor Amari, this is the young lady I told you about a while ago." Nick nodded towards Quinn who stood awkwardly to the side. "Uh, we have a slightly bigger audience than I had expected, but a few of her friends wanted to accompany her. I hope that's not a problem."

Danse was not sure whether that was from illness or stress, but Quinn's entire body was tense and she looked like she might want to throw up. He took a few steps in the opposite direction, just in case.

He and Haylen took a seat on the sofa that was in a darker corner, allowing them to blend in the shadows as Amari discussed the best course of action with Quinn and Nick. Haylen had been very intrigued by the synthetic brain part in Quinn's hand, but Danse pulled her aside before she managed to unleash her avalanche of questions. It was late, this was about Quinn's child and they were merely spectators. This was not about their curiosity. As long as the synth would keep his distance, Danse would not be interrupting their workflow.

Haylen was on the edge of the sofa when the neural interface in the brain part got connected to Nick's head. "This is fascinating," she said in a low voice. "I'm so glad I'm here to witness that."

Quinn was leaning on the side of a memory lounger, eyes fixed on the synth as he tried to access the memories stored in the brain remains. "Can you see anything?" Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, as if her throat had contracted in anxiety.

"There's a lot of… flashes… static." Nick winced, his skin imitation scrunching up in a frown. "No, I can't make any sense of this. There's memories, but I'm not able to retrieve them."

Amari shook her head and sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. The mnemonic impressions are encoded. We should have anticipated that the Institute would have installed a failsafe on it."

"What do you mean?" Quinn was leaning forward, nervously biting at the nail on her index finger. "The memories are _encoded._ Like a computer?"

"Quite like a computer," agreed Amari. "But we lack the password to enter."

Quinn's hand clenched in a fist as she started pacing back and forth. "There are ways to bypass passwords and unencrypt things. You just need a few tricks. But Nick's head is not exactly a terminal, so these wouldn't work." She stopped. "We need more power to crack it. How can we give Nick more processing power?"

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," said Nick from his seat. "Will my head remain usable after this kerfuffle in there?"

"I would sure hope so." Doctor Amari slid her hand over the back of her neck, ruffling her short hair. "Yes, this could work. We could use two brains. If we load you and mister Valentine into the memory loungers, we could run your cognitive functions in the parallel."

"And that would give enough processing power to break through the encryption. That's brilliant." Quinn gave a weak grin. "As long as I won't get lost in his head, that is. Wouldn't want to see him in any compromising positions."

"If a smart mouth was all it took to solve problems, we would have found your son by now," drawled Nick in response.

Amari was not amused. "Uh… no. You don't really need to worry about that. You will be able to access only the memories that are on the implant. He will act as the host and your consciousness will look through the material to find something we could use."

"Have you all gone mad?" Danse was next to the doctor in a few long strides. "This is insanity. You want to connect a human brain to this mechanical pile of junk that has a piece of a killer's brain in him?"

"It's synth detective, jackass." Nick glared at him. "Fox, if you want my help, better tell your guard dog to step down. I don't appreciate that attitude of his."

"Danse, please." Quinn put a hand on his arm, her eyes begging him to stand down. "I know you don't like my choice of allies on this, but this is not a mission. I mean, yes, we're on a mission, but this particular moment is about my son. My son, who is still in the hands of the Institute. Just… leave it, alright?"

Danse didn't respond. He turned to stare at Amari with steel in his eyes. "I don't trust this plan, I don't trust this synth and you better prepare for all hell to break loose if anything happens."

With that, he shook Quinn's hand off and stepped a bit further. His eyes were locked on the memory loungers that Quinn and Nick were getting in. This entire idea was madness. If anything went wrong, he could be losing another member of his squad. _I won't stand to see another one of my soldiers killed or altered to the point where the only sane thing to do is to put them down. This doctor better know what she's doing._

Haylen got up from the sofa and strode to where he stood. "It's going to be alright," she whispered as the glass lids of the loungers slid shut. "I'm worried, too. But she will be fine." Haylen slid her hand in Danse's. Her touch surprised him, but he didn't remove his hand. The warmth was comforting, as was knowing that he wasn't alone with his thoughts.

"You can observe the process on the screen." Amari showed them to the terminal that was joined to the two memory loungers via a mess of cords. "Now, let's see what we have here. Initiating brainwave migration between the transplant and the host."

She paused, fiddling around with the controls of the terminal. "Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant! It's degenerated, but it's there." She shot a look towards the lounger where Quinn's limp body was lying, her eyes staring at nothing and everything. "I'll try to find the strongest memories and load you in there. They might not be stable. Just brace yourself."

Danse and Haylen observed in a stunned haze as Kellogg's memories flooded the screen. It was an incomprehensible mess at first, but Quinn managed to lock on to a specific memory and make the picture clear. The first attempts got them nowhere. They witnessed snippets of Kellogg's miserable childhood, his hope for a happy life with his wife and kid and the downfall after his family was taken from him.

Danse tensed up when synths appeared on the screen. Kellogg's first contact with the Institute. He bought his way in with violence and intimidation, much like everything else he had done in the memories they had gone through.

The screen turned blue. A new memory. This one seemed to be different though, judging by the way Quinn's body started twitching. The image was of a sterile-looking room with blue lights. A few people in envirosuits were handling a terminal, while a man in a leather jacket observed the rows of metal pods lining the walls.

"Manual override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended." A robotic voice boomed through the room. The people walked past the rows, checking the pods. Danse took a sharp breath as he saw the contents of those metal eggs. There were people inside. And the person that was sluggishly moving her arms and blinking her eyes in one of the pods was Quinn. That was unmistakably her, even though her normally unruly hair was in a bob that looked almost neat and she didn't bear the marks of Wasteland life yet.

Haylen gasped. "That's Quinn. Holy shit. Danse, what is this? Is it a dream? It can't be an actual memory, can it?"

He didn't respond. The Quinn on the screen had woken from her cryogenic sleep and was now pounding on the glass, her mouth forming voiceless words. The pod opposite her had been opened and a man was groggily stepping out, a baby cradled in his arms. He struggled against one of the people as she tried to remove the child from his grasp.

If the ginger tuft of hair on the baby's head hadn't given it away already, the desperation on Quinn's face would not have left any doubt. This was Shaun. The Quinn on the screen slammed herself against the glass when a gunshot echoed in the room and her husband slumped back in the cryo pod. The real Quinn in the memory lounger was shaking all over, a pained look on her face.

"Open it. Now." Danse stepped right in front of the doctor, staring down at her. "Why on earth would you make her relive that? Stop this madness right now or-"

Amari raised her arms to put them between her and Danse as she retreated. "We still haven't found any information that could help her find her son. We need to go a bit deeper."

Danse's words cut through the air like ice. "If you do not find something in the next two minutes, I will pull her out of your damn machine." _What kind of a monster does things like this? Why would she make Quinn relive the worst moment of her life? Being forced to see her husband shot and baby kidnapped again… None of this is right._

Quinn's eyes were still open, but she wasn't seeing anything around her. Tears were streaming down her face as the scene changed. A small ginger boy of about ten years of age was sitting on a floor, looking through comic books.

Danse turned away from the screen and sat on the chair next to Quinn's lounger. He zoned out from the talking coming from the terminal, feeling heavy and useless. She was watching her son growing up without her and he had no way to help. Hell, he had even deliberately held her back when he knew she was desperate to continue the search for her son. The urgency with which she had gone through training and missions made sense now.

He was torn out of his thoughts by a squeaking noise behind him as the glass cover of Nick's lounger opened. Getting back on his feet, the synth shuddered and cracked his neck.

"I'd gladly never do that again." He frowned as he looked at Quinn who was still locked in her lounger with her unfocused eyes wide open, hands clenched in fists and body shivering. "Will she be alright?"

Amari shrugged. "This can't have been easy on her brain, but I see no reason why she couldn't fully recover, at least physically. Mentally though… going through all of this may leave its marks. But at least we got the information we needed."

Nick nodded and slid his metallic hand over his face. "At least we got that. Listen, I'm very grateful for your help. Nobody else could have done that. Give my best to miss Fox over here. I think it's best if I'm gone by the time she gets out of that lounger. She has her friends here to take care of her and me crowding her would not be a good idea at this point."

He turned to Haylen, who looked shell-shocked from everything she had just witnessed. "Listen doll, I'll be heading off, but you three will likely need a place to crash. On the same side of the street, slightly to your right when you exit, is Rexford hotel. It's the most decent place around – or at least the least likely place where you'd end up stabbed. Go get some sleep. If Fox wants to talk in the morning, she can find me at the mayor's office. It's time I paid my friend a little visit."

"Thank you," said Haylen in a flat voice. "I'll let her know." As Nick left, she turned towards Danse. "You knew this? That she was frozen?"

"I think it's best if she tells you about this herself, whenever she is ready." Danse rubbed his forehead and sighed. This was definitely not what he had expected when he recruited Quinn. It seemed that strange happenings followed that woman wherever she went.

Doctor Amari had opened the pod, but Quinn wasn't getting up. She was still shivering, her eyes unblinkingly open. "She seems to be in a state of shock. This must have been exhausting for her." She retrieved a stimpak and took hold of Quinn's arm to inject it. Seeing the doctor struggling against the violent shudders rocking Quinn's body, Haylen went to her aid. Together they managed to hold the arm still for long enough, allowing Amari to inject the meds.

Quinn relaxed a moment after that, her eyes finally sliding shut. Amari put the empty stimpak away and checked her pulse. "If she is capable of talking normally when she regains consciousness, she should be fine."

"And if not?" Danse glared at her, his temper taking hold of him again. "Tell me, doctor, is it customary here to perform such experiments on people? Must be so convenient for you when test subjects come to you voluntarily. This is taking advantage of desperate people."

"I was only trying to help." Amari's eyes thinned into narrow stripes as she returned Danse's stare. "At no point did I force anyone into this. She needed information and Valentine volunteered his help."

"Like I'd care about the synth." Danse was stopped by a cautionary touch on his arm, Haylen giving him a small shake of her head.

Amari's voice had turned icy. "You're welcome to wait for your friend upstairs."

"Look, she's waking up." Haylen rushed to Quinn's side, offering her hand to help with getting up. Quinn looked past that and got out on the other side, legs trembling.

"How are you feeling?" Amari tried to support Quinn, but that offer was also ignored.

"My brain… it burns." Quinn shut her eyes and tilted her head backwards and took a jagged breath, a weary look in her eyes.

"That is not surprising. All the synapses in your brain got pulled apart, connected to someone else and then pulled back together. That's bound to create discomfort." The chill in her voice faded away, replaced with concern. "Are you… are you ready to talk about what happened there?"

Quinn stared at the doorframe. "I don't want to talk." She swallowed hard and swiped her sleeve over her face. "Thank you. But no. I… I need to go."

Supporting her weight against furniture and walls, she stumbled out of the room, wordlessly swatting Haylen and Danse away as they tried to support her. In silence, they made their way to the hotel.

Danse hung back with Quinn as Haylen approached the reception. She hadn't said a word since leaving the Memory Den and he didn't know what he could say to make her feel better. _Is there anything you can say in such a situation?_

Haylen returned with the keys, a frown on her face. "There was only one room left. But there's a sofa there as well, so one of us can take that."

"I'd even sleep on the floor," said Danse. He reconsidered that claim when they reached their room. The floor looked like it was last swept at some point before the Great War. He even spotted a few empty chem syringes poking out from behind the wardrobe. _It's only for the night. We'll be out of this dump of a city tomorrow._

The room was scantily furbished, with one wardrobe, a shabby desk with a chair, a double bed and a lumpy sofa. It was quickly decided that the two women would be sharing the bed and Danse would sleep on the sofa. Quinn seemed disinterested either way; she slumped on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall with an empty look on her face.

"Quinn?" It seemed like Haylen was scared to spook Quinn if she spoke any louder. "Your skin needs some ointment, it's all dry and cracking again. Do you want me to help you?"

Quinn gave no response, but she didn't protest either when Haylen sat next to her, removed her jacket and took her arm to gently cover it in the balm Cade had given them for the mission. In the meanwhile, Danse set the sofa ready for sleeping and took out a few bottles of water from his backpack. He put a bottle next to the bed for the sisters, not wanting to break the silence.

He settled down on the sofa in a half-seated position to read the book he had packed at the very bottom of his bag. He was a few chapters into the familiar story by the time Haylen finished with Quinn's treatment.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" Haylen's question was met with a barely noticeable shake of the head from Quinn. Haylen put the balm aside and crossed her arms. "Well, I _do_ want to talk about this. I came here under the impression that we were going on an actual mission, with a small side-goal of getting information about your family. I ended up in the middle of something I don't quite understand, we barely did any decent research about Diamond City and I'm getting the feeling tomorrow's Goodneighbour-mission is also going to be more of a smoke cover than an actual assignment."

She clenched her teeth together and turned towards Danse who had lowered the book. "And you knew about all of this. I can read your face well enough after all these years. You knew exactly what this "mission" was and yet you roped me along."

Her face was turning red, the freckles disappearing in the colour. She stood up from the bed so she could face Quinn and Danse at the same time. "I would have been absolutely fine with this and supported it, but why lie to me? I thought we were friends, Quinn. Yet you tell Danse all about this and don't mention a word to me. I would have helped you. You know I would have. Why leave me out of the loop like this?"

Quinn shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "You… you consider me a friend?" She turned her glance towards the dusty carpet. "I didn't think of that. I just didn't want to burden you with this. Danse knew. But he only knew because I had a few moments of weakness and I accidentally said something. And then the cat was out of the bag and I couldn't take it back anymore. I mean… he's my Commanding Officer, I guess he needs to know some stuff."

"Fuck's sake, Quinn."

Danse was taken aback. Haylen didn't swear. Yet there she was, looking frustrated and swearing at Quinn who was still sitting with her head bowed and shoulders drooped. Haylen briefly touched her forehead and then let her hand fall down, only to grasp her head with both hands a moment later, jaggedly sliding her fingers down to her neck as she sighed. "By steel, you are thick. I care about you, Quinn. And this is what friends do. They listen to each other's problems, they support each other and they hug when one of them is sad. Or did you think that all the times I expressed interest in your life were just polite small-talk? You're an idiot."

She sat back next to Quinn and wrapped her arms around her friend. After a brief hesitation, Quinn did the same, leaning her head on Haylen's shoulder with her eyes squeezed shut. Danse found the situation a bit awkward, yet endearing. He would rather have been outside the room for that – it felt like he was witnessing a private moment not meant for his eyes.

Haylen was stroking Quinn's back, her eyes glossy. She noticed Danse looking at them and smiled. She signalled with her head that Danse should join them. He felt hesitant, but went and took a seat on the other side of Quinn, barely leaning against the bed. He was surprised by Quinn's reaction as she let go of Haylen, only to pull both her squad members into a tight hug. "Thank you both. I would not have made it this far without you."

They all remained sitting side by side when Quinn broke the hug. She started talking with her voice raspy from suppressed emotions. "I'm sorry that I pulled you two into this. And Danse, I know this probably oversteps all boundaries and you shouldn't even know such things about your subordinate, not to mention actually helping her with the crazy plans. I never meant to do this. I guess I get a one-track mind when it comes to Shaun, so I make decisions that are unfair towards the people around me."

The smile on her face looked forced. "I never wanted Shaun to grow up like I did, but it looks like I got the better end of the deal after all. He's growing up without either of his parents. He wouldn't even remember Nate or me by now. I've failed my son."

"You haven't failed him." Haylen draped her arm around Quinn's shoulders again. "Seriously, Quinn, this is more than one person should ever endure. You're a damn strong woman to even keep going like this after being frozen for a decade."

There was an awkward silence, with neither Danse nor Fox wanting to explain the actual situation. To add to Danse's discomfort, his leg was pressing against Quinn's due to sitting so close together. This kind of contact made him feel flustered, but moving away would have drawn attention to himself so he stayed still.

Eventually Quinn gave a small cough and looked at Haylen with apologetic eyes. "Uh… it was more like a few centuries. I'm pre-war. My family got sealed in the vault when the bombs fell."

Haylen took a few deep breaths before saying anything. "Alright, so this is even more screwed up than I imagined. It will take some time to get used to… and I will probably bombard you with _so_ many questions once I have processed this and you have slept. So just get ready for that."

"I'll take that into account." Quinn was looking more relaxed now that the truth was out. Even her smile started to seem natural. "Hey, at least we know now where to continue with the search – and if this Virgil guy knows how to get into the Institute, that will be a massive asset to the Brotherhood as well."

Danse nodded. _If she can find the entrance to the Institute, Maxson would be pleased beyond belief. That could even justify the existence of this team. I just need to make sure I'll be there so Quinn wouldn't be holding back information again._ "This is definitely nothing like the missions I'm used to. But we are in the same team. And that means I'm there for you if you need help. But to be there, I need to know what is going on. So whatever plans you have for the next steps, don't do that alone."

Haylen nodded on Quinn's other side. "I'm in as well. Since we're on Elder Maxson's special experimental squad now, we can come up with ways to do things undercover. I can understand why you wouldn't want the entire Brotherhood to know that you were cryogenically frozen. I mean, that's just messed up. I'm so sorry, Quinn." She leaned her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Just know that I'm here, alright? Whether you need to talk or just sit in silence or take apart turrets for relaxation, I'm your gal. Never leave me out of the loop like this again."

Danse got up to retreat to his sofa. "It is late and we still need to work tomorrow so we would have something to report to Maxson when we return. Try to get some sleep." He tried to find a comfortable position for sleeping and eventually settled in with his back towards the wall. Haylen and Quinn fell asleep before him, their even breathing filling the room with familiar background noise. Quinn had taken hold of Haylen's hand at some point, so they slept hand-in-hand like characters from one of those happy books about childhood in the old times.

He turned on his back and stared at the ceiling. It was supposed to be just another mission, albeit with new methods and goals. He knew how to conduct missions. He knew how to handle his soldiers. These two sleeping in this room though… they confused him. They handled emotions differently from the rest of the soldiers he had worked with.

He usually knew what to do with shell-shocked soldiers and how much space he should give them to cope with their problems. Haylen had already shaken his usual pattern. He felt closer to her than he had felt with any of his other brothers and sisters, except for Cutler. Her unwavering trust in him, her dedication to work and the positive demeanour she always had, these had been the cornerstones of every squad they had been in together. He respected and admired her, even if he sometimes didn't know how to offer her the kind of support she needed.

Quinn however… she left him constantly bewildered. Her odd way of speaking, complete disregard towards appropriate military conduct and the strength that showed through the cracks whenever she forgot to joke about everything around her… Danse had no idea what to do with all of that. As frustrating as she was, she was also a breath of new air in his established military life. It was refreshing to interact with someone who treated him as a person first and a title second, at least when it was just the two of them. On missions with her, he was Danse, not Paladin Danse. It annoyed him, but he liked it.

He yawned and turned back to his side. As messy as this small squad was, this was _his_ squad. And perhaps it was exactly the squad he needed.


	14. Dust and Danger

Maxson had eaten up their report like a big juicy steak. Fox could see the hunger in his eyes, mulling over the findings from their mission and already coming up with ways to use the gained intelligence.

"The fact that Goodneighbour is a den of thieves and murderers does not surprise me." Maxson started pacing back and forth as he talked, fingers stroking his thick beard. "We can leave them for now as they do not pose a direct threat to our goals. The Minutemen however seem to be stronger than we had anticipated. They can either be of assistance in achieving our objectives or they can turn into a disruptive power. The latter would force us to intervene."

"From what we heard, they do not have enough military power to threaten us in any way, but their ambitions are big." Danse stood with military precision, back straight and hands clasped behind his back as he addressed the Elder. "They would need further monitoring to assess their actual capabilities."

"Agreed." Maxson stopped to look through the giant windows framing the room, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "It is regrettable though that the Railroad remains elusive. There is much potential in making contact with them and dipping into their intel. Keep your eyes open for any information that would get us closer to them."

"Understood." Danse was the only one to give a verbal response. Haylen and Fox just nodded in unison, leaving their Commanding Officer to do the talking. "What are our next orders, Elder?"

Maxson turned to face the squad. To Fox's surprise, he addressed her. "Knight Quinn, have your injuries healed enough for a more physical field mission?"

"Uh, I guess so. I mean, yes sir. I managed the city mission at least, so it should be fine." She could feel her skin pull in an uncomfortable way as she stood up straight to look respectful. She was not about to complain about it and cause herself to be left out from missions though.

"Good. Then you can finish your Knight training. Proctor Ingram has requested for Scribe Haylen's assistance with a project, so this squad will reconvene after that. As the pilot mission was a success, you shall be named Clandestine Squad Sinon."

"Fancy," said Fox with a grin before realising that was perhaps too casual. "I mean… thank you, Elder."

"Scribe, you are dismissed. Report to Proctor Ingram for further instructions." Maxson waited until Haylen had left and closed the door behind her before addressing the two remaining soldiers. "I have an important mission put aside for your final training exercise, Knight. There is a super mutant hive too close to the Prydwen and as we have found out, they are in possession of a small-scale nuclear arsenal. Your task is to compile a squad and take them to sweep Fort Strong clean of the mutant presence. Paladin Danse will obviously accompany you to assist and assess your performance."

Fox thought she saw Danse shaking his head and gesturing something at Maxson from the corner of her eye, but he stopped the moment she turned to look properly. Maxson raised an eyebrow. "Is there an issue with this order, Paladin?"

"I…" Danse started saying something, but shut his teeth with an audible click. "Nothing, sir."

Maxson did not look convinced by that, but he didn't question Danse any further. "Good. I expect the both of you to report back once the mission has been completed. Dismissed." Danse and Fox nodded and left side by side to find squad mates for the mission.

* * *

"Pull back!" Fox's voice was at its limits, trying to make sure everyone would hear the order. "Regroup back in the first ruins!" She started moving backwards, firing at the mutants that tried to take down her squad mates and occasionally stumbling over the rubble in her way.

It felt odd, like she was not the one leading the squad and giving orders. No, she was floating somewhere and watching the events unfold. She was definitely not the soldier enclosed in that metal shell that weighed her down. She was not the one feeling like every step took unimaginable effort and any breath could be the last before the armour decides to cave in, deciding its squishy inhabitant does not need to live anymore. That was not her. She was merely observing.

The squad retreated to the half-collapsed house that they had cleared when the vertibird was still able to give them air support. Advancing after the first few buildings had turned out to be more difficult than expected. The vertibird had been forced to pull back before the mutants managed to bring it down from the sky with their projectiles. They should have requested a few extra vertibirds for the mission, but nobody had expected the mutants to be that well-armed and in such high numbers.

"Is everyone alright?" Fox watched her ground-self check the squad and make sure everyone was still combat-ready. Some were injured, but there wasn't anything critical. They were tough soldiers, they would pull through.

Through a haze, she could hear the discussions on their plan of action and herself telling the others they would secretly split when they get closer to the fort. One group would flank the mutants and surprise them with fire from the side while their attention is on the soldiers that move in their line of sight.

Danse was supposed to be the head of the flanking group while Fox led the rest of the soldiers straight for the fort. The noise of shooting and the taunts from the super mutants provided cover for Danse's group, allowing them to advance unheard and unseen. Fox's group darted from one cover to another, continuously shooting to distract the mutants so they would not be able to pay attention to anything else.

They reached outer edges of the fort at the same time and unleashed hell upon the super mutant hive, lasers and super mutant shouts slicing through the thick air. Some soldiers fell, but they pushed themselves up again, pressing through the pain to cover for their brothers and sisters.

"They have nukes!"

Fox didn't know who shouted that and she had no time to check. Complete chaos descended on the battlefield as soldiers started hastily retreating from the beeping noise. More super mutants were pouring out from the fort, advancing towards the squad with grins on their giant green faces. A few of them on the frontlines were carrying armed mini nukes. That sight spread terror among the soldiers.

One soldier broke the retreat. He raised his weapon and launched himself towards the mutants with a loud "ad victoriam" shout filtering through his helmet. Fox watched in horror as the man in power armour sprinted towards the enemy, shooting at them haphazardly. Everyone else scattered backwards, shouting at their brother to stop the madness.

The soldier's weapon shot a laser beam at a mini nuke at point-blank range. Fox was thrown back into her body as the shockwave hit, launching her in the air and away from the blast centre. Her eyes were blinded by the explosion, the light still flashing in her head even as she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the armour hitting something, knocking the wind out of her and crashing her body against the heated metal as the harnesses couldn't keep her in place.

For a moment there was complete silence, until her ears popped back to life. The chaotic screams and shouting assaulted her head that was ringing from the blast. Her chest was tight, screaming out for air. _Is this death? Am I dying? Oh god, I'm dying._ She wanted to tear her throat apart, open it up to let the air flow in, but her metal fingers were helplessly scraping against the armour. Just before she lost herself completely to the panic, her hand hit the switch and the metal shell slid open.

Fox fell out, hitting her back against the wall that had broken her flight. She felt her breath leaving in a quick burst and fell to her knees to gasp and try to calm her racing heart. Everything hurt and her skin felt as if it was on fire; her head throbbed in sync with her heartbeat.

The continuing screams forced her to focus on her surroundings. The world swam in front of her eyes as she looked up, trying to see through the white haze. Her breath was still short, brushing over her dry lips and making them tense up even more.

The mutants were dead. The explosion had ripped through their ranks, scattering them in every direction. The splatter on the walls of the fort hit Fox with a sickening realisation. They had been practically pulverised. How was she still alive? And who else was alive?

_Danse! Oh god. Please don't be dead._

She pushed herself up, disoriented and weak, trying to overcome the growing need to lie down and slip to nothingness. She needed to check on her squad. And she needed to find Danse.

Walking proved to be impossible. Her left leg gave in, sending her crashing back to the ground. _Fuck._ Biting her lip to drown out the pain in her limb, she pulled herself to her power armour. It was badly damaged, with one leg crushed between the wall and a huge rock that had been launched with the blast. Fox looked down and gagged.

_Well, at least my leg is still intact. But I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be this bloody. But it's just a bruise. It's a bruise and I will walk it off._

Fox opened a small compartment on the armour that had a few first aid necessities stashed in it. Holding her breath, she injected a stimpak straight in her leg. The sensation of the meds spreading made her breathe out in relief. _This would do._

She grabbed everything else and stuffed it in her belt pockets to help others. Walking was still painful, but adrenaline and the stimpak helped her push through it. Seeing the rest of her squad gathered around a wounded knight made her feel grateful for her own condition. Knight Graves was stuck in his power armour that had been mangled by the explosion, making the chest cave in. His helmet had been removed, exposing his sweat-covered face and unfocused eyes. He was the one whose screams of pain Fox had been hearing. She swallowed and wet her parching lips before speaking up.

"Squad, report your condition."

She heard everyone's response through a haze, barely registering the words. Her eyes were darting around, looking for Danse. She managed to pay enough attention to gather she was one of the least injured ones of the group.

"The good thing is that the blast wiped out the mutants and our power armours provided enough protection to allow us to survive." She tried to sound encouraging to keep up the morale of the others, even if she felt hollow inside. "We are missing two soldiers though."

"Knight Dresden… he sacrificed himself." The Knight talking did her best to keep her voice from shaking. "He volunteered for the mission and now he's gone."

Fox shut her eyes, willing herself to stand strong. This was not the time for breaking apart. She forced herself to look at the squad, even though it made her feel smaller than ever, with her being the only one without armour. "Ad victoriam, brother. His sacrifice will be remembered."

Everyone hung their heads and repeated "ad victoriam" with the Brotherhood salute. Fox gave them a moment before continuing. "Has anyone seen Paladin Danse? Was he close to the blast?"

She was met with blank stares and a few head shakes. Fox took a shaky breath, her head pounding with pressure. "Alright. I will call a vertibird to pick up all of you. As I am responsible for the squad, I will stay behind to find Knight Dresden's holotags and locate Danse."

"I can stay to help."

Fox looked at the Knight who offered assistance and shook her head. "No. You have a head injury and need to report to Cade right away. I will not have my squad risk their wellbeing if it's not strictly necessary. The mutants are wiped out and there is no reason for all of you not to return to the Prydwen."

A few tried to protest, but Fox shut that down very fast. She did not need others there. She did not know what she would find, but she sure as hell did not want others to see her break down if her fears would turn out to be true. She waited for the vertibird to pick everyone up before she took any further action.

Alone at last, she looked around with hesitation. There was nothing but death around her. A few power armour pieces were scattered around, most of them probably from Dresden's suit. _I promised to get the holotags._ Smothering her rising nausea and fear, she forced herself to walk towards the blast centre. The mini nukes had been small ones, but the air was still filled with radiation, making the Geiger counter on her Pip-Boy spark to life. Fox injected a rad-X and pushed on.

On the edge of a pool of liquefied mutants were the remains of Dresden's power armour. The shape was nearly unrecognisable, but Fox was stunned there was anything left at all. _Whatever they make this armour from, it's damn near indestructible._

The tags were there, sticking out from the metal pile. Fox grabbed them gingerly, only to drop them a moment later with a curse. She blew on her fingers, trying to cool the burn. _Fuck. Guess I'll be picking those up later. Danse is first._

Fearing she would find the remains of Danse in a similar condition, she nearly descended into a wave of panic. The clicking of the Geiger counter brought her back from the edge of despair, forcing her to keep moving before she cooked herself.

"Danse!"

Her shout was met with silence. The pain in her leg was flaring up again, but she injected another stimpak, pressed her hands in fists and pushed on. She could deal with that later.

Fox limped through the rubble, dragging herself from one ruin to another. She was starting to lose hope when she heard an odd noise nearby. It sounded like something crashing against the wall and a shout. Clenching her fists again to counter the pain, she neared the house where the noise came from. She nearly broke out in a run as she saw the familiar metal shine of a power armour.

Danse was there. His helmet was off, revealing his flushed face and the mess of hair that was sticking to his head with sweat. The source of the noise became clear as Fox saw him punch the wall, screaming out in rage. She froze in place, unsure how to approach him. Danse had not seen her yet and she felt it would be safer to not show up unannounced, not with him being like that.

The wind turned, sending a gush of air through the open doorway of the house. The smell of burned metal and super mutant blood washed over Fox, making her cover her mouth with a hand as her body convulsed in disgust.

Danse stopped, the rage in his eyes replaced with emptiness. He exited the power armour, staggering on his legs and barely making it to the sofa near the wall. He landed with a low thud, face pale and arms limp at his side. Fox's eyes widened as she took in the miserable form of her Commanding Officer.

"Danse?" She entered quietly, afraid to spook him with any sudden movements. "It's me, Quinn."

No response. It was as if he didn't even acknowledge her existence.

Fox stepped closer, her feet silently moving across the dusty floor. Ignoring the searing pain in her leg, she sunk to her knees next to the sofa, deliberately making herself smaller next to him. "Are you alright?" She didn't see any visible injuries besides his bruised knuckles. "I was worried about you. The rest of the squad is back on the Prydwen, I sent them to be treated. They're alive though." She didn't mention Dresden, because she had a sinking feeling Danse already knew. No need to bring up such awful topics at that time.

Danse stared ahead, not seeing or perhaps even hearing Fox. She kept talking, her voice soft and controlled. "Are you having a flashback? Do you know where you are?"

"Fort Strong." His response came with a delay, the words raspy and hesitant.

"Yes. But the super mutants are dead. They're all gone. No more Brotherhood soldiers will perish here again. It's safe now." Her message seemed to be getting through; his body relaxed a bit though his shoulders were still high and tense.

"Can you tell me your name?" The question felt ridiculous as she said it out, but the simple action of stating his name had sometimes helped bring Nate back. It was something to hold on to, something that was his own and could not be taken away. She gave herself a small smile. _Wouldn't work for me though, I'd get confused over what name to pick._

"Alexander Danse."

Her mouth opened into a wide grin that she couldn't manage to hide. "Alexander? And here I was thinking that your first name was actually Paladin."

He turned his head downwards to look at her. The fog in his eyes was still there, but slowly clearing. The insane relief washing over Fox made her smile even bigger, despite the pain she was in. She placed her fingers around his open palm, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to help him connect to the real world instead of the horrors in his head. His fingers twitched before closing around her hand, holding on to her with a sense of desperation.

"Glad to see you returning." She felt torn between worry and happiness, but the latter won. _He's alive. He's not a puddle of blood and flesh somewhere between the mutant corpses. He is alive and here._

She moved a little bit and gasped aloud, a bolt of lightning travelling upwards from her leg. That pulled Danse out of the world in his head, eyebrows scrunching with concern. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a little bit, my leg got crushed in the power armour. It's only a bit of bruising, nothing bad." _Shit, Haylen will tell me off for this one so badly. I bet she thinks I do this shit on purpose by now._

Danse helped to pull her up and get her seated on the sofa despite her protests that she was fine. His gaze travelled to their hands, still locked from when she had taken a hold of him, and he released his grasp with a start.

Fox felt her cheeks flush. "I'm so sorry for that. Touch can really help with episodes, but I should have asked. I guess being around Haylen has made me kind of oblivious to borders in some things." Fox smiled at the floor, remembering the chats she had shared with her after the Memory Den day. "She left four siblings in the Capital Wasteland, so she's used to being around her brother and sisters, getting regular hugs. She actually apologised for being so affectionate in Goodneighbour. It's her go-to stress reaction and she's had to suppress it for a long time. Rhys isn't exactly snuggly."

She realised she was rambling and closed her mouth, biting the inside of her cheek. Sitting so close to him was very distracting, plus knowing Danse's closed nature made her want to postpone talking about the episode as long as possible to save him from the embarrassment.

"Don't feel sorry, it did help." Danse took a deep breath and averted his glance. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Running away like that and hiding… that's not how a Brotherhood soldier should act. You must think I am weak, a terrible excuse for a soldier."

"Hell no." She said it louder than she had intended, her voice reflecting back from the hollow building. "Danse, you're the strongest person I know. With everything you've gone through, you still followed me to Fort Strong without hesitation, even though you knew what was waiting here."

Fox reached her hand up to put it on his shoulder to reassure him. The position was rather uncomfortable due to their height difference, but she didn't care. "I've seen people break down under this kind of pressure. Nate was a damn mess when he returned from his last tour. I couldn't even drop a knife in the kitchen without scaring him. This did not make me respect or love him any less though. None of that was his fault. I admired him for going on and pushing through despite all of that."

Without even noticing that she did it, her hand moved down to his chest, making her own heart flutter as she felt his heartbeat through the fabric. She pulled her hand back as if it had been zapped, her eyes wide. Danse turned his head to face her, his expression unreadable for Fox as she was too busy trying to conceal her own emotions.

"It means a lot to me, hearing you say that." He paused. Fox didn't interrupt, giving him time to find the words. "I appreciate all my brothers and sisters in the Brotherhood, but after Cutler, I haven't called many people my friends. I…" He paused again, a painful shadow passing over his face. "I don't want to get attached to people. Losing them hurts too much. I consider you a friend, Quinn. And knowing I might lose you to super mutants like several others I've cared about, it's just too much. I do not know how to handle that."

_He cares for me._ She had to suppress her grin and focus on the rest of what he had said. "Danse, nothing will happen to me. I'm way too stubborn to die. I mean… yes, I've done stupid and careless stuff, but that was when I didn't really have much to live for anyway. Besides, this time I did pretty damn well. If I hadn't left my power armour behind, I could even say I'm your knight in shining armour."

_Too far. He's awkward enough about this situation without you rubbing it under his nose_. She wanted to bury her face in her palm in shame, but Danse gave a low chuckle. "My knight in shining armour, huh? Aren't you the one who always tries to avoid using power armour?"

"I'm just more careful about such things." Fox grinned and nudged his side. "Not everyone's fighting style is semi-suicidal bulldozing into mutants, though you're very proficient in that." _Open mouth, insert foot. Damnit, Fox. Stop making him feel bad about things! Fuck's sake. At least mock yourself, not him._

"I'm not the one who just said they didn't have anything to live for." Danse's look was serious. Too serious. The kind of serious she did not want to handle at that point.

"But that was before. Now I do have something to live for. I mean, there's Rhys and Teagan and Cade and…" She couldn't fight the grin anymore and gave a short laugh at Danse's confused frown. "…and there's Haylen. And you. I care too much about you to give up now." She left the _you_ ambiguous, letting Danse interpret it as he wished.

He didn't say anything, but his expression softened and turned into a smile. Fox felt her cheeks heat up at that and she decided to break the silence before she would do anything stupid. "So, your name is Alexander?"

Danse gave her a puzzled glance before remembering how she knew that. He brushed his hand over his neck, ruffling the back of his hair. "It's odd, hearing that said out loud. Nobody has called me Alex since… since Cutler."

"I don't have to do that if it makes you feel uncomfortable." She felt a bit awkward, like she had taken a peek at something deeply personal that was not meant for her eyes.

"No, it's fine. As long as you address me in an appropriate manner when other soldiers are around, I don't see an issue with that."

Fox wanted to reach out and touch his hand again, but that would have been too far. She forced herself to be satisfied with the fact that the warm look in his eyes was meant for her, that he cared about her. "Alright. I will probably still call you Danse most of the time though. Old habits die hard and all that jazz."

"With you knowing my first name, it would be fair to know yours as well." He had a teasing note to his voice that sent shivers down her spine. "I know Fox is just a cover name."

Now it was her turn to give her hair an awkward ruffle, her glance stuck to the floor again. "Uh… yeah. I guess it would be fair."

Fox covered her mouth with a hand as thoughts flew through her head, urging her to not say anything. She let her hand fall in her lap as she came to a decision. "Alright. You can laugh if you want. I'm Rosa."

Danse tilted his head, looking at her with a mixture of confusion and humour. "Laugh? Why should I?"

Fox pointed at her hair. "Um, ginger? Named Rosa? The only pink you can see on me is my fucking face if I've been in the sun for too long. Or a radiation chamber, for that matter. Ginger and pink do not mix. And my idiot of a mother decided this would be a cool name for her carrot-haired kid. Guess who got mocked all through primary school with the most idiotic nicknames? Fun."

"Children can be cruel." Danse was still not laughing, which was a relief to Fox. "Rosa is a beautiful name though."

_Yeah, but anything you say with that voice is the best thing ever anyway, so that's kind of unfair. You could say "putrid flesh" and it would still sound hot._ She didn't say that out loud, turning her face away instead. _Get a grip. Commanding Officer. Mixing work and pleasure is a colossally bad idea, plus he'd never even like someone like you like that. …and I'm confusing even myself with my rambling now. Ugh. Get. A. Grip._

"Are you alright?" Her sudden silence had made his frown return and he was leaning forward to inspect her face, making her draw herself back before she'd reach out to touch his stubble. Fox swallowed hard and stood up, nearly making herself fall over.

"Fine. Absolutely fine. We should probably return to the Prydwen, the others might be worrying." She tried to take a step, but the pain in her leg made her wince.

"You are not fine." Danse moved next to her and crouched down. "May I?" Fox gave a nod, her head feeling dizzy. He lifted her trouser leg with a gentle move, fingers brushing along her skin. "Cade will be overjoyed, he'll have you back in the infirmary."

"Oh hell no. I'll just get another stimpak and it'll be fine." Her leg wobbled, forcing her to put a hand on Danse's shoulder for support. _There's no sparks. Stop being a damn teenager._

" _Another_ stimpak? How many have you had?"

Fox did her best not to melt into a puddle as Danse's fingers slid over her skin, checking for further injuries. She pressed the nails of her free hand into her side, the pain grounding her and allowing her to get a response out. "Two."

Danse shook his head and got up, forcing Fox's hand to slide down his back before she managed to pull away. "Two? You can't have any more until we get back to the Prydwen. Overdosing won't help."

Fox was stubbornly trying to make her way to the door, causing Danse to sigh. "Let me at least support you. We can send someone back here to retrieve our power armours."

He slid his arm around Fox, urging her to put her weight on him instead of the leg. Fox did her best to focus on the road ahead and not on how his muscles moved around her shoulders as they walked. At least the sweet distraction was not letting her focus on the pain. _Take it as a painkiller. A wonderful man-shaped painkiller. And as soon as you get back on the blimp, you'll get over this. You hear me, Fox?_

As much as she tried, her inner pep-talk and threats were getting drowned out by the other side of her – the side that was happy despite everything and telling her she deserved a bit of happiness. That side did not come out often, so she allowed herself to bask in that shine for just a little bit. For half an hour, she could be happy.


	15. Echoes of the Dead

"For a cunning strategist, you're awful at chess." Paladin Brandis grinned, sweeping the chess pieces off the board. "Another one?"

Danse chuckled and leaned back on his chair. "No, I think being defeated three times in one evening is enough." He took a sip from his Nuka Cola and cradled the cool bottle in his hands, grateful for the break from the heat. Spring was in full swing and that meant the Prydwen was slowly beginning to overheat. At least for now, removing a jacket and having a cool drink was enough to make living bearable. _Not really looking forward to a summer on the Prydwen…_

"I'm actually decent when playing against the others." Danse didn't mean to get a defensive note in his voice, but Brandis was a boastful winner. "It's hardly a fair match between us, considering you spend most of your time practising."

"Ah, but it _is_ fair. If we were to match up in battle, you would easily win there. An old man takes his victories where he can." Brandis put the board and pieces aside and cracked open another beer, tossing the cap on the growing pile on the corner of the table. "You don't really see a lot of battle nowadays though, do you?"

Danse shrugged. "Not really, especially not after what happened at Fort Strong." His glance slid over the buzzing mess hall. A lot of soldiers were enjoying their relaxation time there, but there could have been more. There should have been more.

"I'm amazed you sent Quinn there for her final Knight Exam. Most Paladins would choose something different. You know, a location with _less_ nuclear warheads." Brandis' mouth was curved in a smirk, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

"I didn't choose the place. Elder Maxson overrode my decision." Danse took a sip, the drink cooling down his heated body. "I would have never chosen Fort Strong on my own. Don't get me wrong, Quinn did a fine job with what she was handed. But this mission would have been a handful even with a Paladin leading it, especially with such meagre air support."

"That's odd." Brandis frowned and slid his hand over his stubbly chin. "I am relieved to know it was not you though. For a moment there I thought you _wanted_ our girl to fail."

Danse didn't even comment on the choice of words. Despite Quinn correcting him with "I have an actual _name_ " every time she got called _girl_ or _darling_ , Brandis continued with what he considered to be affectionate terms for the snarky little Initiate who had convinced him to leave his bunker. _Pulling the old man card for everything is a cheap trick, but try to tell him that._

"She has handled the situation fairly well. She showed hardly any emotion when we picked up Initiate Dresden's holotags, but I have seen her at the memorial wall several times since then, looking like she had been crying. This was the first time she lost anyone under her command and I'm afraid this is hitting her hard." Danse poured the remaining Nuka Cola down his throat, trying to banish the image of puffy-eyed Quinn from his head.

"Can you blame her? Us two are not exactly stellar examples of handling the death of our soldiers well either. Losing someone under your charge in such a gruesome way… I feel for the kid." Brandis shook his head, his bushy eyebrows forming a frown. "I've tried to talk to her about this, but she shuts me down the moment she realises where the chat is going. If you can offer her some support or make her see Cade about it-"

Danse cut him off with a rough laugh. "I'm not sure who would be more unhappy about the latter, Cade or Quinn. He already threatened to have her thrown off the ship if she keeps ignoring his orders and getting her leg wound opened up with careless behaviour. I've never seen anyone get under his skin as much as she does. If it weren't for Haylen's care, Quinn would probably still be going around and trailing blood all over the place."

He checked the clock on the wall and sighed. "Time to go and attempt to sleep. We have an early departure tomorrow with Sinon; Maxson wants us to go check out the headquarters of the Minutemen. Have a nice evening." He got up, nodded at Brandis and headed for his room. He could only hope Quinn had recovered enough for the mission.

* * *

The giant tree offered some much-needed shade. As much as Danse loved spring, the midday temperature was starting to feel too much like summer. With the outfits for undercover missions, his head was exposed to the sun more than he was used to, letting his dark hair soak up all the heat and make him dizzy. The best cure was to stay in the shade as much as possible, at least until the sun had moved from its peak position.

He leaned against the tree, checking the sun for the tenth time to see how long it had been. Haylen, sitting cross-legged on the grass, smiled up at him. "She only just left. You're very impatient today."

Danse frowned, fixing his eyes on the farm complex a bit further ahead. "She has a knack for getting stuck in the weirdest situations and she still hasn't healed properly from Fort Strong, so I disagree with her going in on her own."

Haylen quirked an eyebrow. "Yet you let her go."

"She did have good reasoning." He looked aside so he wouldn't see the amused expression Haylen bore.

"This is without doubt the weirdest squad I've ever been in. For one, we actually have to use casual language during missions." Haylen formed a fist and then stretched out a finger, counting the points. "Two, the Knight dictates half of our actions instead of the Paladin." The second finger followed. "And three, there's a surprising amount of things that never make it into the reports. You're actually covering for her."

Danse had mulled over that last point a lot recently, especially while writing the reports on Clandestine Squad Sinon's missions. "I made a promise to keep her secret and I don't break such trust lightly. And now you are involved in it as well, but your position is one of a squad mate and a friend, instead of her commanding officer. Tell me, what would you do in my position?"

Haylen shrugged, playing with the small clump of grass blades she had pulled from the ground. "Probably the same as you. It's a weird situation in any case." She let the grass rain on her trouser leg and brushed it off in a sweep, letting out a sigh. "It kills me a bit every time she returns from another mission, all bloodied up or otherwise hurt. I know – or rather I hope – that she doesn't do it on purpose. Nevertheless, seeing the wounds of people you care about is never a pleasant thing."

She looked up at Danse, her mouth pressed in a thin line. "She has more scars by now than I do, and she hasn't even been here for a year. Her leg is a damn mess and her shoulder is just as bad, since she refused to stay put for long enough to let the wounds heal."

She ripped out another clump of grass. "You know what she said when I told her she had messed up her entire left side and soon she wouldn't even be able to eat soup on her own if she keeps this up? She got one of those creepy grins and said the left side sucked anyway and at least her spoon-hand is still fine. What kind of an answer is that?"

It was Danse's turn to shrug. "You can't force someone to deal with things they are trying to avoid."

Haylen gave him a pointed look. "I know. I've tried."

Danse was grateful to have the discussion interrupted by Quinn's return. That feeling turned to confusion as he recognised the objects that were weighing her down. "You went to get information and you returned with shovels? Do explain."

Quinn dropped the heavy load on the ground, wincing as the shovels rolled over her forearms. "That's… uh… I'll tell you the information first." She massaged her left hand while talking, trying to soothe her muscles.

"Connie – the lady who took me in after I got out of the vault – said she had considered joining the Minutemen. With all the new farmers and the construction work that had to be done to accommodate them, she hasn't had time to go to Sanctuary yet… which is where we come in. I told her I'm heading there with a few friends anyway and I could deal with the negotiations for her."

Danse was about to reprimand her for making promises like that, but then the genius of the plan hit him. "That is an excellent cover story. We wouldn't even be lying, so there is less of a chance we will trip up and expose ourselves."

Quinn turned slightly pink, looking like she was about to make a horrible joke. She restrained herself and pointed at the shovels on the ground instead. "I figured it would be smart to take something with us. I also have some seeds in my backpack that we could take to Sanctuary as a gesture of good will."

"That should work." Danse gave a curt nod. "You have the map, lead the way."

On their trek towards the main settlement of the Minutemen, Haylen kept trying to engage Quinn in conversation, but her attention seemed to be elsewhere. Danse suspected it might have to do with the amount of pain she was likely still experiencing due to her injuries. She didn't even protest when Danse suggested he could carry her shovel as well and lifted both onto his shoulder.

The sun had moved from its scorching mid-sky position by the time they reached the top of the hill that overlooked Sanctuary. The hilltop was surrounded with a metal fence that had partially worn away over the centuries, leaving plenty of gaps for them to squeeze through. Quinn seemed tired from the walking, her face pale and eyes squinting. She leaned her hand against a tree, forcing her companions to halt as well.

"Pain?" Haylen had lines of worry on her face as she walked to Quinn's side and set her shovel down. "Do you need anything?"

Quinn bit her lip and frowned. "Uh… no, not exactly. Or yes. There is a place I'd like to visit before we go to Sanctuary. See that big metal disc on the ground? That's a Vault lift. I figured it might have some useful things for the Brotherhood in there."

"Good thinking." Danse was impressed. He still had occasional doubts concerning Quinn's dedication to the Brotherhood and her strategic thinking (or lack of it), but she was proving to be a very useful asset. _And a friend,_ added a voice in his head.

They stashed their shovels in the control bunker of the Vault and waited until Quinn figured out how to trigger the lift mechanism. After a bit of fiddling around on the terminal, she flicked a switch on the control board. "That should do it. Let's get on the pad."

They had barely made it to the centre of the giant metal plate before it started lowering into the ground. Danse looked around as the world around them slowly disappeared. _It must have been terrifying for the people who ran here from the explosion. I can't imagine what it would feel like, knowing you might have to spend most of your life underground, perhaps never seeing trees and the sky again._

The lift stopped. Quinn was the first to move as the metal cage around them slid open, revealing the Vault entrance hall. Noticing the shaking of her legs, Danse cursed in his head. _It's another Vault and I didn't think to suggest she could stay aboveground while Haylen and I look for useful materials down here._

"So this is what a Vault looks like?" Haylen looked around in bewilderment as she followed Quinn, who didn't bother to respond anything. Not pausing or asking for a break, Quinn pressed on even with the limp in her left leg. She looked almost frantic.

"Seems like you have been here before." Danse had a bad feeling about this. The determination in her step, paired with her flattened lips and the odd look in her eyes…

Haylen stopped and grabbed his arm as they reached a room that felt strangely familiar. "No, it can't be." Her eyes widened in horror, taking in the rows of pods lining the walls. Quinn was still silent, dealing with the terminal in the corner of the room.

Danse stepped forward, Haylen's hand sliding off his arm. His stomach turned cold as he looked through pod windows, seeing the frozen faces of the people trapped inside. They had come here to seek safety, but ended up as someone's pawns, like the molerats Senior Scribe Neriah used for her radiation research.

"Can they still be thawed? Are they alive?" Haylen pressed a hand against the glass of a pod that held a teenaged boy inside, his face contorted in fear.

"Their life support was cut off, possibly by the same people who killed my husband and took Shaun." This was the first thing Quinn said since they had entered the Vault. Her voice was low, with a slight tremor. She was standing near a pod, her hand on the red release button next to it. "They're all gone."

She pressed the button and the pod opened with the unpleasant noise of metal grinding on metal. A blonde man with a strong build was frozen in there, his body slumped and hand pressed to the hole in his side, the Vault suit saturated in red. Quinn let out a pained gasp as she faltered, arms wrapped around her waist.

Danse got to her first. He stood behind her and took hold of her shoulders with a reassuring grip, both to keep her standing and to let her know she was not alone in this. He expected her to cry, but Quinn's eyes remained dry even as her lips started quivering, as if she had run out of tears.

"Take as long as you need." His discomfort at this situation was shadowed by the tightness in his chest, the compassion he felt for his fellow soldier. He, too, had looked in the face of someone he had cared for, knowing he could never bring them back. He could imagine the pain this caused her, but he could also understand why she had wanted to come here. The only question was why she felt the need to lie; why she still didn't feel comfortable enough to reveal the reason she suggested this Vault visit.

They stood in silence for several minutes, Quinn standing rigidly with shivers rocking her body, Danse making sure she wouldn't collapse and Haylen holding her hand, slowly stroking her arm to comfort her. Eventually, Quinn swallowed hard and curled her free hand into a fist.

"I can't leave him here like this. I ran away like a coward once before and I refuse to do it again. Initiate Dresden never got a funeral, since there was nothing to bury." She turned around to face her companions, giving Danse a side-eye. "And I'm pretty sure Wil was left to rot in the labs. Nate deserves better. I need to do better."

She paused, looking over her shoulder with a pained grimace. "I want to bury him."

The sensible side of Danse told him to refuse her request, to say they were on a mission and this was extra time that they had not taken into account when planning their time off the Prydwen. The image of Cutler in his head prevented him from saying anything. Cutler, Dawes, Keane… there had been many others who had fallen, brothers and sisters who had never received a proper burial. He could not refuse this chance of providing closure to a sister who was hurting.

"We can do that." His voice was gentle, air catching painfully in his throat as the Cutler in his memories gave him the approving smirk he missed so much. "Haylen and I can do the carrying. You shouldn't put such weight on your leg."

Carrying her husband's body outside was gruelling work. He was by no means a small man, even if he was not quite in Danse's category, and the cold body made Danse's fingers prickle as if they were pierced by needles of ice. By the time they made it to the ground, Danse's shirt was sticking to his back with sweat and Haylen wasn't in any better condition.

Quinn had chosen a quiet hillside location for her husband's final resting place, a bed of spring flowers covering the ground. Danse and Haylen dragged the body there and used the small stream of clear water to wash their hands and faces.

Quinn let the shovels she had been carrying roll to the dirt once more. Danse put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head when she picked up a shovel to break the ground. "No, let us do that. This is hard enough for you as it is. No need to break yourself physically as well."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Haylen intervened. "He said 'no'. And so do I. Please, Quinn. Let us help you. And help us as well. At this moment it would be _really_ helpful if we knew you weren't about to open up your leg again. I refuse to have to stitch you back together in the middle of the Wasteland."

Quinn frowned, but stood down. She handed her shovel to Haylen, who directed her towards a tree stump so she could sit out of the way. Danse had already started digging, thankful for this distraction so he didn't have to focus on the sorry state of Quinn who was slumped on her seat.

They dug in silence for a long while, the only noises coming from the nesting birds in the trees, dotted with the occasional grunts from Danse and Haylen as they hit a difficult patch of soil.

"What was he like?" Haylen leaned on the handle of her shovel, looking up at Quinn. "A stubborn troublemaker like you?"

Quinn snorted, though the look in her eyes remained distant. "Quite the contrary. He was the one who kept me in check and reassured me I could handle everything. He was really too good for me. He should have picked a nice girl who could have given him the life he deserved." She gave a short laugh. "Instead he got me. A wreck of a wife extraordinaire. And let's not forget my mother who refused to let me have my own life, thus making his life a living hell as well."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Haylen started digging again, peeking at Quinn from the corner of her eye. "You're a handful, not going to deny that, but I'm sure there were plenty of reasons why he wanted to be with you."

"Perhaps it was the lost puppy effect. You can't just leave a kicked puppy on the street, can you?" Quinn had that smile again that she usually acquired when talking about painful or uncomfortable topics. Danse concentrated his focus on the patch of soil he was working on, but he couldn't help stealing some side glances at Quinn, checking up on her.

Haylen tried a different approach. "How did you two get together anyway?" She assaulted the ground with such force that her shovel flung some soil in Danse's face. He winced and brushed a sleeve over his face to sweep the dirt away.

Quinn looked embarrassed at that. "It was… uh… a school trip. We had a field trip to the local army base. Nate was one of the people showing us around. I guess he took a liking to me, so we swapped numbers. It was nearly impossible to meet up, with mother monitoring all calls, but we managed."

Danse frowned in surprise. "You had children running around on a military base before the war?"

"I wouldn't call a seventeen-year-old a child anymore," corrected Quinn, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. "And he was young as well. I think he was 21 when we met." She wrung her hands, clearly not comfortable with the topic and yet still talking. "We got together very fast. I never expected to get married, but we did it as soon as I was 18. Just to make sure my mother couldn't play the "family" card anymore, since Nate was as much my family as she was in the eyes of law."

She lowered her eyes and wrapped arms around herself like she was cold. "He adored me. And I didn't even love him. I mean, not when we got married. It would have broken his heart if he had known that I was with him mainly to get away from home. And then he was very convenient help with finances and living arrangement while I studied at CIT. I learned to love him over time, but I could never really understand what he saw in me. He was such an amazing person and I… well, I pretty much used him. I never deserved him. I'm a horrible person."

Danse had stopped digging, eyes fixed on Quinn who was fighting with tears. He wasn't sure how to react to this. He was not good at such discussions and he felt like an intruder, witnessing a conversation not meant for his ears. This was a new Quinn, one he wished he wouldn't have to see again for a long time. This kind of self-loathing hit too close to home.

Haylen was similarly baffled, biting her lip as she tried to find something to say. She sat on the edge of the grave, fingers curled around her shovel's handle. "You are not a bad person, Quinn. I'm sure you had good reasons for all of this. Your life must have been hard, if the best way out was to marry a man you didn't love. And you said you started loving him in the end."

"That doesn't count." Quinn's head was lowered, hands now stroking the side of her throat. "I couldn't even love Shaun at first. I… I wished he didn't exist. I was mortified when I found out I was pregnant. There was no way I would end up being a good mother. I couldn't bear the thought of being responsible for the life of someone so pure and small, knowing I would ruin them."

"You didn't ruin Shaun though. You will find him and you will get a chance to be the mother you want to be." Haylen's voice was soft and soothing, even as her eyes were pooling with tears.

"I have already failed him. It was my job to protect him, and look at me now. Husband is dead, baby is kidnapped, the first squad I led ended up in a mess of death and injuries… I'm a hazard to people around me. And now I have trapped you two in this mess as well. I never meant for this to happen. I was just going to get some information and disappear. I didn't mean to do this to you. I'm so sorry."

Quinn's face was buried in her hands, body shaking with suppressed tears. Haylen pushed her shovel aside, wiped her hands on her clothes and moved to Quinn's side, cradling the friend in her arms. Quinn tried to push her away at first, but stopped fighting as Haylen refused to move, eventually giving in to the hug and leaning her head against Haylen.

Danse didn't know what to say, so he continued digging. The best he could do to help was to finish the grave so she wouldn't have to see her dead husband lying on the ground anymore. That can't have been an easy sight for her to see.

By the time he was done, Quinn's shivers had died down. Her eyes were dark and moves determined as she got up from her tree stump. "I can help. I can't just sit here anymore. I promise to stop the moment I feel it's too much."

"We shall keep you to that promise." Haylen squeezed Quinn's shoulder and they stepped to Nate's limp body side by side, sadness on one's and emptiness on the other's face. Together with Danse, they lowered Nate into the freshly dug grave, some soil from the edges already crumbling in.

Danse noticed the glimmer of metal on Nate's finger. "Do you want to keep his ring?" His voice was careful and level, fearing that his question might send Quinn back to the despair she showed earlier.

She shook her head. "No. Bury him with it. In fact…" She pulled off her own ring and squatted down to put it on Nate's chest. "Goodbye, my love. If there is any kind of afterlife, may you have a better life there." Her fingers brushed over his shoulder before she stood up, lips pressed together. "I'm ready."

They picked up their shovels and started filling the grave, Quinn's eyebrows lowering into a sad arc as Nate disappeared under a layer of dirt. She stepped aside when the grave was halfway filled and sat on the grass with a heavy thump. Her eyes followed Danse and Haylen as they finished the morbid job and smoothed the surface of the grave.

"Rest in peace, Nate." She placed a few flowers on the grave and pressed her hand to it, saying her final goodbyes. Her eyes were glossy as she stood up and straightened her back. "Thank you for doing this. You have no idea how much it means to me."

"I hope you will find your peace as well one day," said Danse, feeling a strange urge to pull her into a hug to comfort her. Instead, he put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "He loved you, so you already made his life better. And I'm sure you will be an excellent mother to Shaun when we… when you get him back."

"I'm not sure this is true, but thank you anyway." Quinn raised her hand to place it on Danse's, returning the squeeze before they both let their hands fall. "Time to head for the mission." She gave Haylen a quick embrace and a small smile before retrieving her backpack. Danse had already gathered all shovels so she wouldn't attempt to carry any.

He fought with the tight ache in his chest, the compassion for her sister in arms hurting him physically. _She will get better. She can get through this. And I have to get over my own past so I could be of more help. I will not let my squad down again._

They walked towards Sanctuary side by side, Quinn's shoulders slumped and yet a small glimmer of hope in her eyes. Seeing that shine in her eyes lifted Danse's spirits to some extent. The Clandestine Squad Sinon family would survive. They would all be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sparks are slightly cut down for this chapter, since it didn't really make sense with the mindsets both of them were in. There will be more though! ;)
> 
> Also, as I have finally finished playing Dragon Age Inquisition (and loved it to bits!), I've started working on a fic about that one as well. So if there's anyone who would be interested in reading about an Inquisitor with a slightly different background and how she grows to accept her role, there will be a new fic under my name in the next few weeks :) There's also going to be a side plot with Cullen, but I'm not making the romance the main focus of the story.


	16. Way Back Home

The late afternoon sun was caressing her face with lazy rays, prompting Fox to close her eyes. For a moment, there was only the warmth on her skin and the distant sound of birds that were trying to outdo each other with their elaborate songs. Silly birds. Did they not know there was no life in this world? Everyone would end up dead. Dead like the skeletons that littered the road they were walking on, on the road that she had hoped to never see again.

She opened her eyes, reluctant to look forward but afraid to stumble over something if she kept them shut for much longer. She was grateful that Danse and Haylen didn't try to talk to her. _To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if they never wanted to talk to me again. They're finally starting to see the real me. Why would anyone want to spend their time on a person who is a damn disaster like I am?_

"I'm glad this is just reconnaissance, not a food requisitioning mission." Haylen had creases on the root of her nose as she squinted towards the sun. "I still don't want to believe Proctor Teagan actually encourages that awful behaviour."

Fox was torn out of her thoughts. "Encourages what?"

Haylen raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? We need to eat something, so Proctor Teagan has teams going around local farms to secure food sources for the Brotherhood. Only that it's done mostly by force, sometimes leaving the farmers with close to nothing for themselves. I've heard soldiers bragging about the amounts of food they've brought in and how they got it." She flitted a glance towards Danse before continuing. "The people here owe us nothing, so this is not _requisitioning food for troops_ , it's plain stealing."

"They're doing _what_?" Fox's eyes widened and she stopped in her tracks, images of a Brotherhood soldier pointing a gun at Connie flying through her head. "What the fuck?"

"It could be necessary evil." Danse's jaw was squared, an uncomfortable look in his eyes. "We have an important mission in the Wasteland and the troops do need to be fed."

"Yes, but not by threatening people to give up their own food! No wonder people don't like us much, seeing what the Brotherhood stands for in their eyes. We're nothing but petty thieves to them, probably on the same level with raiders!" Fox's fingers were curling into fists as she spoke, a scowl on her face.

"The raiders are nothing but unorganised rabble and criminals," interjected Danse. Fox cut him off with a cold laugh.

"Whereas we are _organised_ criminals? I can't believe Maxson is doing this. We should have enough caps to at least pay for food, damnit."

" _Elder_ Maxson," corrected Danse. He paused for a moment, brows knitted together. "I doubt he is aware of this though. I cannot imagine him standing for such behaviour from Brotherhood soldiers. I will make him aware of this situation once we're back on the Prydwen."

"Please do." Haylen shook her head, the corners of her mouth pointing downwards. "This is not what the Brotherhood should stand for."

"We're there." Fox had a warning note in her voice, not wanting to give away their allegiances while in the headquarters of the Minutemen. She tensed up, seeing the familiar and yet so alien houses crop up in her line of sight. This had been a safe place for all those families. It had been a street of suburban bliss and big dreams, a street where kids raced up and down the sidewalks on their tricycles and parents hosted barbecues for their friends and neighbours. Even though she had never felt like she fit in that world, it had been a beautiful and bittersweet sight. Now it was only bitter.

All window panes had been blown out by the nuclear blast. Most holes had been nailed shut to provide shelter from the wind and rain, though Fox could also see some makeshift windows made from milky translucent plastic. Seeing that gave her a small jolt of hope. It was such a small thing, but it was a step towards normalcy, towards the idea that there could be regular family life and a bustling city here at some point.

A man in a cowboy hat stood in the middle of the path, obstructing their way. "Looking for someone?"

Danse gave him the once-over before talking. "We are looking for the general of the Minutemen. Is this Sanctuary?"

Fox could see the man's glance turn towards the shovels Danse was carrying before he stepped aside and pointed down the street. "The general is just finishing guard duty. Head to the guard posts you see near the river." He tipped his hat, giving a warm smile. "And welcome to Sanctuary!"

Fox felt the nerves dancing in her stomach as they approached the general. It was difficult to process the idea that this once peaceful street was now taken over by a military organisation, probably much alike the Brotherhood. At least the people they passed seemed happy, even if exhausted from work. They received a few nods and greetings, making Fox frown in confusion. _Shouldn't they be at least a bit suspicious towards newcomers? Ask us where we're from and what is our purpose here?_

They stopped at the wooden guard posts that overlooked the shabby bridge over the river. Four people stood at the posts, weapons in hand but otherwise relaxed in their posture. Danse coughed. "General?"

The tallest of the group turned around, giving them a small smile. "Yes?"

This was not what Fox had expected. 'General' conjured an image of a battle-hardened soldier in her head, but this woman reminded her more of the diplomats of old time. Standing tall without any military rigidness, casual yet with a commanding presence, she greeted the strangers as if they were old acquaintances who had dropped in for a cup of tea.

Her high forehead was partially shadowed by the dark curls that surrounded her head like a halo, but that's not what caught Fox's interest. The most intriguing feature was the look in her eyes. The eyes were inquisitive and bright, the small wrinkles around them growing deeper as she slid her glance over the three people in front of her.

"We came to learn more about the Minutemen." Fox could barely make herself tear her focus from the general's eyes to say something. "We're settlers from a small farm down south."

The general stepped down from the guard stand and stretched her hand out. "Tammie Mullen, the general of the Minutemen. Pleased to meet you." Her voice was throaty and the handshake warm and firm, despite the roughness of the skin on her palms. "Feel free to call me Tammie though, I'm not one for formality."

Relieved that she didn't have to come up with a full name, Fox smiled. "Pleased to meet you too, I'm Quinn. And this is Danse." She paused as Tammie shook his hand. "And this is Haylen." Another handshake and a nod.

"So, what do you want to know?" Tammie slung the laser musket she had held in her left hand onto her shoulder. "And what's with the shovels?"

Fox could barely contain her snort, realising Danse was still holding on to the three shovels they had brought along. As she knew the most about the situation, she decided to be the spokesperson for their small group. "They were meant as an offering." She was glad Danse had thought of wiping the shovels clean before they left Nate's grave. Thinking about Nate made her wince and she pushed the image of him out of her head. _Not the time for this. Keep talking and smiling._

"An offering? Visiting the altar of some old gods?" Tammie smirked down at her, making Fox feel tiny. Tammie could even look down at Danse, so Fox had to crane her neck to look at her properly.

"Not exactly. I wasn't entirely sure about Connie's reasoning, but I wasn't about to argue with her." Fox used a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked at her conversation partner. "Do you know Abernathy Farm?"

Tammie nodded. "Yes, they're a bit south from here. You're from there?"

"No, but I know the owners. We are from a smaller place ourselves, but talking to Connie made me consider something as well. She's been so busy with work and fending off raiders that she hasn't really had time to pop over to Sanctuary. So we're here as ambassadors to check whether joining the Minutemen would make sense for them." She offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. "And if the conditions are good, we might consider expanding our farm and joining up as well."

Tammie slid a thumb in her trouser pocket, fingers strumming against her leg. "Alright. So she sent shovels with you?"

Fox laughed, but stopped fast as she wasn't sure it sounded genuine. "Yes. Her thinking was that you'd be more open to the idea if you were softened up with a gesture of goodwill." She slid the backpack straps off her shoulders to fish for the small packages Connie had given her. She handed them to Tammie before propping the bag on her back again. "And these are seeds from her farm."

Lips slightly pursed in curiosity, Tammie bounced one of the packets on her palm, seeds rattling inside. "Interesting." She called a guard over to ask him to take the seeds and the shovels, releasing Danse from his carrying duty. "Sanctuary humbly accepts your offerings. In return, I can give you a tour of the settlement and information on Minutemen. Feel free to ask any questions you have."

"So, what exactly are the Minutemen? Or well, who? I don't know how to phrase this." Fox morphed her frown into a smile. _You're rambling. Stop rambling. Just smile and get this over with._

"Protect the people at a minute's notice." Tammie let out a deep chuckle. "That's literally our motto. We're a bunch of people who saw they could help others. So we do. When a settlement has issues with raiders or super mutants or anything else, they can call us for aid."

Danse seemed confused by that concept. "So you offer your military assistance without getting anything out of it yourself? Or do they have to pledge allegiance to you after that?"

Fox wanted to elbow him. _This is not how normal settlers talk. Less Brotherhood, more 'random bloke from the Wastelands' please._

Tammie only shrugged. "Pretty much. Of course we offer them the chance to join. They get training, armour and weapons out of that. And we get another location that is ready to help others. So in the end, we will have a connected network of settlements that stand up for each other. We could drive the raiders out like that."

Fox felt her chest grow tight as they were getting closer to where she had lived before the war. In an attempt to delay seeing her old home, she pointed at a nearby house that had been reinforced with sheets of metal. "What's that? Are you building fortresses here?"

She was surprised by the general's laugh. "Not quite. It would be nice to have the resources for that, but for now we're trying to build up our forces to take back the old headquarters of the Minutemen. Proper reinforcing of all settlements can come after that."

She turned off the path to approach the house, the three guests in tow. "This is our stockpile. If losing something would be disastrous, we stash it here, conveniently close to the guard posts." She cracked the door open, revealing the organised mess of weapons, ammo, armour… and crates of alcohol.

"Nice equipment." Haylen was grinning ear to ear, unable to suppress her amusement. Tammie saw her eyeing the bottles as she said it and she responded with another burst of throaty laughter.

"Yeah, we only keep it here to make sure Sturges doesn't accidentally polish off half our beer again. I swear that man is immune to hangovers. Excellent in construction and anything else that needs a good eye and a steady hand, but utterly uncontrollable around food and drinks. Trashcan Carla once brought several boxes of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes and I only got to see the powdered sugar on his guilty face, cheeks still stuffed with cake."

Fox was shaking with silent laughter, prompting Danse to give her a glare. She grinned at his reaction and turned back towards Tammie. "I can totally relate, Danse here isn't very good with sharing cakes either."

Danse groaned. "You buy yourself some snacks _once_ and she mocks you for days."

Haylen joined the laughter. "You practically inhaled them. _After_ she asked whether she could have one."

"I _didn't hear_ her." Arms crossed over his chest, Danse shook his head at the amused companions. Fox could practically hear him thinking _this is the worst mission ever_ and that only fuelled her chuckles. He turned around and went to investigate a water pump, as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

Haylen leaned against the doorframe and switched the topic. "How exactly does one become the general of the Minutemen?"

"Blind luck and being in the right place at the right time. Or wrong place and wrong time, depending on how you take it." Tammie mimicked Haylen's pose, leaning on the nearby wall. "I was just passing through Concord when I stumbled upon a group of people who were being hounded by raiders. So I helped them out. That's how I met Preston."

She jabbed her thumb at the man in the cowboy hat who had directed them towards the guard post before. Preston was leaning back on a bench and smoking a pipe, his eyes closing as he puffed some smoke out. Tammie smiled at that. "He was the last remaining Minuteman. They'd had some tough times and he had pretty much been certain he'd die in Concord. He was so grateful for the help that he offered me to stay with their group. So I stayed and we set up in Sanctuary. Somewhere along the way we connected with other settlements, spread the word about the return of the Minutemen and I ended up as the general. Preston doesn't care for such titles."

"And you do?" Fox studied Tammie's face as she pondered the question. Her forehead wrinkled in thought, eyes looking towards the distance. After a few moments, she shrugged.

"Not really. But I can see the merits in it. Of course it would be nicer to not have such a burden and just spend my days digging tatos and sharing an evening beer with friends. But someone has to do it. And if not me, then who?"

"Fair enough." Fox nodded. She couldn't quite understand someone giving so much of their life for people she had randomly met, but it seemed like a noble idea nevertheless. Noble didn't necessarily mean wise, but she was in no position to judge others for their life decisions.

They had started moving towards their next destination when Haylen realised Danse was missing. They found him squatting near the water pump, a group of children loudly chatting around him. Fox felt the corners of her mouth tugging upwards as they approached the group.

"And how did you get this scar?" A small girl pointed her finger at the scar crossing Danse's right eye and eyebrow. He slid his fingers over it before answering.

"This one? It was a super mutant. I let it get too close to me and it hit me with a barbed bat." His expression was serious, but there was humour in his eyes when the girl boasted that she could have taken the mutant out. "I'm sure you could have, look at those strong arms you have. Next time I'll ask you to come help me."

"Are they bothering you?"

Danse rubbed the back of his neck as he stood up, not answering Tammie's amused question immediately. "No, not at all. The kids were just interested in us as we're strangers here and I thought I could answer their questions while you discuss the stockpile."

"An admirable effort," said Tammie, the wrinkles around her eyes becoming more pronounced again. "Now, why don't I show you guys the rest of Sanctuary and let you get the information you need for Abernathy. And I'm sure Sturges would love to show off our defences."

_That's really stupid, giving us all this information._ Fox followed Tammie wordlessly, nodding at the explanations and barely even perking up when the man named Sturges launched into descriptions of their defence mechanisms and turrets. Haylen could handle that. _Why are they so trusting? This is the Wasteland. They should be expecting anyone to be raiders or spies._

As they moved on from the line of turrets Sturges had so proudly presented, Fox remembered her role for the mission. She coughed her voice clear, getting everyone's attention.

"So, what exactly would be expected of Abernathy Farm if they wanted to join? And would a small five-person farm be accepted as well or would it be better for us to move to a bigger location to get protection from the Minutemen?"

"We help anyone. So you don't really need to merge with another place to get a chance to join." Tammie had her thumbs in the pockets again, fingers tapping the rhythm of some song playing in her head. "We would gladly welcome both you and the Abernathys. Hopefully they already have some people who can handle guard duty so we don't have to send some Minutemen over to train them. We can offer some weapons and armour. If they have a ham radio, they can just let us know whenever they need help. In return we expect them to send help if we or any other settlements close by are under attack."

Haylen interrupted, pointing at a pale blue house. "Most places look like there's people living in them. Why was this one left empty?"

That was indeed the only house that did not have boarded up windows or even any crops growing in the soil around it. It took Fox a moment before she realised that was her pre-war home. She tried to come up with a diversion, anything that would make them go in the opposite direction, but Tammie was already walking there, Danse and Haylen following her.

"This is actually a curious story. We had to leave this one as it was, since a Mr. Handy robot refuses to let us change anything. Poor Codsworth doesn't understand that his owners died more than two hundred years ago, so he keeps busy by sweeping floors and tidying the yard every day, waiting for his family to return. We don't have the heart to remove him, so he's something of a mascot for us by now."

_Codsworth is alive?_ Fox felt her heart skip a beat. _It can't be true. It's been such a long time. Surely his circuits must have shorted by now. …but Molly was still moving as well, though delusional._

Her thoughts were cut off by a painfully familiar voice, the warm British accent throwing her back to pre-war times for a moment. "Ma'am, you have returned!"

_No. He can't possibly recognise me. I look nothing like the woman I was back then._ Fox tried to mask her panic by acquiring a surprised scowl. "Excuse me?"

"Miss Rosa, I'm so glad to see you again! It has been most dreadful, waiting here all alone." Codsworth floated in front of her, worn metal legs moving around in excitement. "Oh, but I must start preparing dinner! Tell me, are masters Nate and Shaun joining us soon as well? I have to clean young master's bottles! Oh, but there is no milk! How silly of me. Do you by any chance know where I could get some milk?"

Everyone was in a stunned silence, staring at Codsworth and Fox. _Please don't say anything, please don't say anything,_ pleaded Fox in her head, hoping Danse and Haylen know better than to react verbally to this. Tammie was eyeing her curiously, arms folded. "Seems like Codsworth thinks he's found his family."

"He must have his circuits shorted." Fox attempted a shrug, trying to look like she wasn't affected by this situation in the least. "I guess I look like someone he knew."

"But Miss Rosa!" If Codsworth had a face, it would probably have looked sad and offended, judging by the emotions in his voice. "It's me, your Codsworth! Do you not recognise me? Have I gone too rusty to even bear a semblance to my own looks? Oh, these horrid radstorms have worn me down, the weather really has gone dreadful while you've been gone."

"I'm sorry, robot, but I'm not who you're looking for." Saying those words hurt. She had no choice, she could not share information about her Vault experience with the general of the Minutemen of all people. She turned towards Tammie to shake her hand. "I'm very grateful for the warm welcome. It is getting late, so we must be going. I will tell Connie Abernathy everything and I'm sure she'll be delighted to join. Or well, delighted is perhaps a too strong word, I'm not sure I've ever seen such strong emotions from her." _You're rambling, cut it off._ "So yes, thank you and we will probably see again."

While Danse and Haylen were saying goodbye, Fox started walking towards the river, not wanting to pass Nate's grave again. A strange noise was following her, making her stop and turn again.

Codsworth was floating there, looking as miserable as a robot can. "Miss Rosa, I am not sure what I did wrong and why would you want to leave me behind, but please _do_ take me with you. I cannot bear the idea of staying here alone again after finding my family."

"Again, I'm sorry, but I'm not Rosa." Fox swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the desperation that was seeping into her voice. Tammie pulled her aside, a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Alright, I get that you're not the Rosa he has been waiting for, but I have a suggestion. Take him with you anyway." She gave a small wave towards Fox's old house with its neatly trimmed hedges. "He will be waiting for his dead family here forever, blocking a perfectly fine house. Whereas if you take him with you, he can be of help around your farm and we get to finally access the house. It's a win-win situation."

Fox looked at Danse, a cry for help in her eyes. He interpreted it the wrong way, stepping forward and confirming they could take Codsworth with them. _No. I can't do this._ But Tammie had already thanked Danse for that and they were already walking away with the three of them, Codsworth following them, and Fox had no idea what had just happened.

Haylen was the first to break the silence, once they had crossed the bridge and left sufficient distance between them and Sanctuary. She turned towards Danse, trying to defuse the situation with humour. "So, got any tactical information from the kids?"

Danse frowned. "This is hardly an appropriate topic for conversation right now. We need to first find out what is the agenda of this robot."

"Agenda? I beg your pardon?" Codsworth whirred towards Fox, clicking the tongs on one of his arms together. "I am Miss Rosa's personal assistance robot, helping with housekeeping and taking care of young master Shaun."

"Please… please don't." Fox had a hand on her forehead, the other arm wrapped around her waist.

"Is this true, Quinn?" Danse's insistent voice forced her to look up.

"Yes. Such robots were popular before the war. I never expected to see him again though." She sighed, fingers digging into her scalp. "Codsworth, buddy, how are you?"

"Well, much happier now that you actually recognise me! The time without you has been most unbearable, I worried for you every day." Codsworth paused and continued with a quieter voice. "It seems like you have found a new home, ma'am. I guess we are not returning to the one in Sanctuary?"

Fox cursed under her breath. _What do I do with him? I can't take him with me like this._ An idea struck, making her straighten her back. "Haylen, Senior Scribe Neriah has a Mr. Handy helping her, yes?"

"She does," confirmed Haylen, sounding hesitant. "I don't think she'd want another one though."

"Well, but there's the precedent for having robots on the Prydwen. What if Codsworth came to assist Ingram? Or perhaps help with cooking?"

Danse shook his head. "And how do you think this would work, with him knowing everything about your past? You've been hiding it so carefully and now you're willing the let the entire Brotherhood know?"

Fox felt her eyes prickle. "There is a way." She turned to face Codsworth and willed her voice to sound neutral. "Codsworth, before we go any further, I'll have to check your wiring to make sure everything is still working properly. Wouldn't want you to start glitching. After all, your last maintenance check was more than two centuries ago!"

"That is an excellent idea, ma'am. I hadn't even considered that my regular check-ups had been skipped. How careless of me." Codsworth floated closer and turned around to allow Fox to access the openable panel. She took a deep breath, opened the metal cover and stared at the inner wiring and the variety of buttons at her disposal.

"I'm so sorry, Codsworth." She uncovered a small button in his casing and pushed down on it. Codsworth powered down, collapsing to the ground.

"What did you do?" Haylen stepped towards the robot, eyebrows pulled together in concern. Fox dug her nails into her palm.

"I did a factory reset. He won't remember anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll be able to forgive me for this twist. As awful as it was, it was the only way out that Fox could see at that point.
> 
> PS. For those who are interested in the Dragon Age world, there's now a new longfic and a one-shot on my profile. Feel free to check them out! <3


	17. In This Together

Danse could barely keep up with Quinn. The recklessness with which she was throwing herself at the turrets and the Gunners was scary to see, but nothing he said would make her stop. _Should I just tackle her to the ground? She will get herself killed like this._

His head was getting cloudy from the frustration and anger that had been piling up in him for the past week. After the Glowing Sea, she had slowed down just long enough for Haylen to patch her up and to make a quick trip to the Prydwen to drop off her power armour. _I could have forced her to stay. I could have had her confined to the infirmary. Why do I keep allowing this?_

Deep down he knew why. Had he tried to stop the tornado that Quinn had become, she would have left anyway. She would have left alone, with only Righteous Authority and the insane shine in her eyes to clear her path. Without him running along to keep up with her, she would already have died several times. He hated her for that.

"Get down!"

His shout made Quinn dodge the volley of bullets just in time, the first of them ricocheting off her lopsided helmet. Danse planted his feet firmly in the dusty floor, taking out the turret and several of the Gunners that were steadily approaching them. A small tinge of pride broke through his annoyance as he saw the efficiency of Quinn's shooting. As long as she stayed in cover, she was rather capable. Things went downhill whenever madness took over and she launched herself at the enemy with abandon. _Like now._

Danse cursed in his head, sprinting to catch up with Quinn. She was running across one of the many elevated walkways in Greentech Genetics, laser beams shining off her combat armour as she shot at the last remaining Gunner on their floor. She didn't even seem to notice the bullets spraying in her direction.

He pushed her out of the way to take the Gunner out himself, finishing the man off with a well-aimed shot between his eyes. He whirled around to face Quinn, eyebrows pulled together in a deep scowl. She tried to push past, but Danse put his arm out to stop her from leaving.

"Stop. Quinn, you have to slow down." He tried his best to not let anger saturate his words, to not cause her to run off again and throw herself at the dangers on her path alone.

"We're letting him get away." Her eyes were squinted so tight that he could barely see her pupils in the dim light. "I never asked you to join me, you know. Let me go."

Explosions rocked the next floor, shaking the walkway beneath their feet. Using his momentary change of focus, Quinn dodged under his arm. In a split second, she was off again, her combat boots measuring the floor with thumps that echoed through the corridor.

_Next time I_ will _tackle her. That blatant disregard towards everything and everyone around her… Infuriating. What did she do in the Glowing Sea? What did that scientist tell her?_ His frown grew even deeper as he realised she was disappearing behind a corner. _Focus. You can confront her about this later. For now, make sure she stays alive._

This chase lasted for a while, with Quinn just a bit ahead of Danse at all times. He didn't try to stop her, instead focusing on picking off enemies from a distance whenever anyone targeted her. He felt relieved once they reached the highest levels of the building, but that relief was short-lived. There was no time to even catch their breath.

"Give me the password."

The voice they heard from above was cold and calculated, without any emotions. _The courser. We found him._ Danse felt the tiredness of his body trying to take over, but the need to keep her safe kept driving him forward. He could only imagine what made her keep going after the daily quota of energy and the bonus from adrenaline had been used up.

Quinn was already rushing upwards on the metal staircase, not even checking whether the way was safe. They could hear someone answering, saying they wouldn't give up the password. She stopped for a moment as a gunshot echoed in the staircase, cutting off the stammering response.

"Now, who wants to give me the password?"

Hearing the courser again prompted Quinn to continue moving, but Danse had finally reached her. He planted a strong grip on her shoulder, holding her back. She struggled and turned to face him, raw anger on her face.

"Go back. You didn't have to come here. If you _really_ want to be here, at least don't get in my way. I need that courser."

"And I need you to stop throwing yourself in situations that can end up killing you." Danse's response was quiet, as to not attract attention from the room above the staircase. "We need to assess the situation before entering."

"The only thing I need right now is for you to get your ass out of the way." The venom in her voice was shadowed by something else, something that made Danse feel a slight stab inside. He released her shoulder, against his better judgement. She took off immediately, not pausing to check whether he was joining her.

He followed her closely, heart pounding with adrenaline and anxiety. The courser they were about to face had effortlessly taken out an entire building of Gunners, with only minor forces left behind to offer opposition to Danse and Quinn. Her willingness – no, her _need_ – to deal with the courser reminded Danse of the white hot anger and disgust he felt every time he faced super mutants.

The courser had taken out two Gunners by the time they reached the upper floor. A few remained, kneeling on the floor with their hands up. The courser, clad in an entirely uncomfortable-looking black leather outfit, was pointing a gun at them. _Picking his next victim, no doubt._

That's when he noticed he had company. His icy eyes fixed on Quinn in the doorway. "Who are you?"

"That's hardly relevant, now is it?" Danse could barely recognise her voice, so cold and different from her usual way of talking. "What is relevant is that you have something I need."

"And what would that be?" The courser's gun was still pointed at the hostages, as if he didn't perceive Quinn as any kind of threat despite the rifle in her hands.

"A way to get into the Institute."

She fired, hitting the courser's right hand that was holding the pistol. He seemed to barely feel it as he had no reactions to being shot, but the gun left his hand nevertheless. One of the hostages had seen a way out, trying to grab the gun with his capturer distracted. The weapon fell over the railing, clattering to the ground far below. Without any anger or other emotions on his face, the courser snapped the Gunner's neck in a smooth move and kicked him, launching the body where the pistol had fallen.

Danse had stepped next to Quinn, both of them firing at the courser, but he seemed to shrug off the injuries, even with the holes appearing in his body. Under the volley of bullets, he stepped to the two soldiers and snapped Righteous Authority from Quinn's grip, despite her hold on it. She let go with a yelp of pain as her wrists were twisted with the weapon.

Danse's sight narrowed. The rest of the room turned dark, he could only see the emotionless face of the courser and the movement of his hands as he flipped the rifle around to point it at Quinn. With a high-pitched whistle that had come out of nowhere assaulting his ears, Danse rushed forward, crashing his body into the courser and feeling his rifle collide with the metallic bones. The synth faltered, taking a stumble backwards.

The weapons were gone. He didn't know where they had disappeared or what had happened. The world was turning around him as he wrestled the courser on the ground, once on top and then with his skull smashed into the floor. A fist slammed into his face. The hot flash of pain made his sight momentarily blank out, a lightning strike coursing through his body. He kicked back, pushing himself forward with the help of the floor. The world turned again. He pushed the courser down, his free fist hitting him, the blood from his knuckles smearing the eerie skin of the synth.

Another turn. His side was on fire, sharp waves of pain rippling towards his ribs. The world was dark. He could barely see the face in front of him, the leather-gloved hand pushing down on him, suffocating him. A flash of red entered his field of vision, the room was turning again, moving faster than he could register, falling around him, making his eyes turn to the darkness in the back of his head.

Then silence.

The ringing in his ears was the first sensation he could recognise. The pain followed fast, the crushing of his insides making him feel nauseous. The world turned again as he rolled himself off something. A body.

He tried to push himself up on his arm, his eyes slowly getting used to seeing more than the narrow field right in front of him. The courser was dead. The body of the Gunner whose neck the synth had snapped was next to them.

Danse craned his neck, looking upwards. The railing was there, a few floors above. _I must have survived purely because I fell on top of this scum. Had my head hit the floor, I'd be gone._ He touched the burning area of his side and his hand came back bloody. Danse didn't even wonder about that one – the knife near them had already given him the answer.

Clutching at his side, he made his way up the stairs, stopping every few steps to catch his breath. _She didn't come for me. She didn't come to check, so she is either gravely injured or dead. Or she just took off again, as she's done before. She has other things and people to care about. You are not a priority, Danse. But by steel, if she is dead…_

He made it back to the room. It was empty, save for the two dead Gunners and a familiar lopsided helmet on the ground. A door he hadn't noticed before was open, with voices coming from there. The continuing ringing in his ears and the thick metal walls didn't help him understand who was talking, so he dragged himself towards the door.

Before he made it, a woman with dark hair rushed past him. She disappeared down the stairs, not giving him a chance to even ask her who she was. _Where is Quinn?_ He pushed forward, turning around the open doorway to check the side room. There, on the floor, was the small huddled form of Quinn, arms wrapped around her knees. Danse made it to her before he sunk to the ground against the wall.

"Who was she?" That was the least important question at that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to ask about the Glowing Sea. He couldn't ask her whether the Brotherhood was really only a tool for her and the only reason she returned was that she still needed help. And most of all, he couldn't ask whether he meant so little to her that she could just leave him like that, take off without even saying goodbye.

She lifted her head, the skin on her face puffy and the whites of her eyes tinted pink. She took a ragged breath in as she saw him sitting next to her. For a moment it seemed she wanted to reach out a hand to touch him, but that moment passed fast.

"You're alive." She blinked, as if to reassure herself that he was real and not about to disappear the moment she closes her eyes. "I… I didn't think you'd…" The knot in her throat moved visibly as she swallowed. "I thought he killed you. I couldn't bear to look, so I…"

Quinn paused, gathering words to continue. "The woman who left… she's a synth." She gnawed on her lip, leaving angry red marks on it. "The courser was here to get her. That's why he was taking down the Gunners – they had taken her hostage to use her as a bargaining chip. Idiots, trying to blackmail a courser." She turned her head aside, not looking at Danse.

"The remaining Gunners… I let them go. They didn't deserve to live, but they weren't even armed. So I made them give me the password for the door in exchange for their freedom. And Jenny – the synth – is a creation of the Institute, but she was on the run. She doesn't approve of what they do. And I couldn't take her down either. Even though she's from the Institute."

Danse noticed Righteous Authority on the floor near her. It looked like it would need some patching up, but at least the weapon had survived. It pleased him to know she still had it. He focused on the rifle, because looking at her was difficult, especially as she was clearly avoiding looking at him as well. The room grew quiet for a while, since Danse didn't know what to respond. He was the first one to break the silence.

"So, you're going to take whatever it was you needed from the courser and then you'll leave the Brotherhood?" His voice was harsh, loaded with emotion he didn't want to show. She finally turned to face him again, a pained look on her face.

"Danse, I…" She paused, turning her face aside as if it hurt to look at him. "You knew from the beginning that I was here to find a way to get my son back. And now the life in the Brotherhood is starting to interfere with my own goals. I have spent too much time on missions and exploring the Commonwealth. I've neglected Shaun. I'm already a horrible mum, but I need to salvage what can be saved."

"And I am there to help you, as I've also made clear from the beginning." Danse shook his head as he coughed, his throat dry and painful. He tried to ignore the familiar metallic taste of blood in his mouth. "If you don't care enough about Haylen and me to let us know what you're doing, you could at least do it for your son, so we could help you with the search."

Her face snapped back towards him, confusion in her eyes. "I… Oh." She lowered her head. "That's not why I left you two. You could handle the Children of Atom on your own, it's not like it was a mission with fighting. We just needed to get information from them. Looking for Virgil however… I couldn't put all of us at such risk. If I had died there, there would still have been two people who could continue the search. Had I dragged both of you with me, we could all have died."

Danse didn't respond to that. The anger and hurt in him would have echoed in his voice and he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't show her how much it had hurt him to find her gone in the morning, nothing of hers remaining in the shack those lunatics had allowed them to use. He couldn't let her know he feared she had died alone in the Glowing Sea. The insane relief he had felt when she returned, alive yet with her armour trashed and every inch of her body bruised... The realisation in his head had scared him that day. _I can't lose her again_.

He waited until he had his voice under control, until he felt like he could sound like a disgruntled Commanding Officer instead of the mess of a man he was inside. "You can't just go MIA on us like that, it's insanely irresponsible and puts your squad members in a very bad position. We had to choose between continuing our mission or abandoning it to go searching for you, not knowing where you had gone and whether you planned to return to the Children of Atom. Haylen convinced me to stay so you would know where to find us."

"I'm sorry." She was still not looking at him. Her voice came muffled, dampened by the sleeve in which her face was nestled. "I have stayed too long. I didn't mean to stay so people would start feeling responsible for me. It wasn't meant to be like this. I never planned to find a damn _family_ here while searching for my lost one."

She slumped down even further, contorted into a position that could hardly have been comfortable. "I've also found some ghosts from the past. I helped to create the Institute. All of this is partially my fault."

"What?" None of this made sense. This was an absurd statement. _How could she be responsible for something that happened while she was frozen?_

Her words came out as if she was choking. "Virgil, the scientist, he told me more about the Institute. How they got started and how they function." She paused. Danse thought he heard her teeth grinding together. "I was on the research team. The Institute… it's from the remnants of CIT. The tech they started with, the base for the future synths… I worked on that. They're from the CIT. And I helped."

Danse frowned, his body straightening against the wall. "But you said yourself that the things you were working on during your studies were far from synths."

"They had a few hundred years to develop that, didn't they?" She had lifted her head now, eyes full of despair. "But the basis of everything was the group of people from CIT and their know-how. I helped to develop the beginning of the monsters that are now threatening the Commonwealth. This is my fight. And I can't bring you down with me."

Danse squared his jaw, looking as stubborn as Quinn had ever been. "I had to kill my best friend, remember? What Cutler had become…" He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the image in his head. "It was the Institute's fault. I have as much of a reason to take them down as you do. This is not your fight alone."

Quinn gave him the kind of look that made him ache inside, made him want to wipe away all her worries and bring back the smiles and laughter. She looked so lost, so crushed under the burden she falsely perceived as hers alone.

Not caring about his position as her CO and all the reasons he had listed in his head, he closed the gap between them by shuffling closer on the floor and wrapped an arm around her huddled form. She was so cold against his skin and a shiver rocked her body as his arm brushed over her shoulders. Against his better judgement, he leaned his head on hers, touching his forehead to her mess of ginger hair. For a moment it seemed like she would pull away, but then she melted into his embrace, placing her hand on his and relaxing her stiff shoulders.

The betrayal he had felt and the pain he still had didn't matter anymore. For a moment, it was just the two of them and she was there, in his arms and not running. Danse's free hand touched her face, the sweet ache in him wanting for more, urging him to move closer. Her eyes were closed, she leaned her head against his palm with her lips slightly open, a soft breath escaping them. He traced his thumb just below her bottom lip, marvelling at the way his skin tingled as he touched her.

She opened her eyes, her face so near his that the closeness almost hurt him inside. Throwing all caution to the wind, he cupped the side of her face, gently pulling her towards him. Her jagged breath brushed his lips and he felt his skin grow prickly in anticipation, his head clouded as he leaned in.

They pulled apart, as if both had suddenly realised what they were about to do. Averting their eyes, both mumbled something about finishing the mission and needing to check on something. Danse, ignoring the pain that had returned with vengeance, left to look for his rifle. Quinn had to check the body of the courser for any tech that would help her get closer to the Institute.

Mechanically going through the motions helped to dull the ache and confusion, to distract him from what had nearly happened. Despite him straining to keep his focus on the task, Danse couldn't quiet his heart and smother the thoughts in his head. _This is inappropriate. This situation should never have happened. You're just mixing your relief over her being alive with something else. It's just the joy of being alive. She is your subordinate and it's highly inappropriate to use your position like this; you're taking advantage of her._

There was an awkward silence as they met in front of the elevator to get back to ground floor. "About what happened," started Danse, his voice raspy and hesitant. Quinn shook her head and cut him off.

"I'm sorry, that was entirely my fault. It will never happen again. I think it's best if we don't mention this anymore so we don't jeopardize our mission." She extended her right arm. "Friends?"

Danse nodded, enclosing her small hand in his. "Friends." He held her hand for a moment longer than needed before letting go, missing her touch as soon as she removed her hand from his heated palm. _At least she's returning with me so I won't have to wonder whether she has run off to get killed somewhere. For now, that should be enough._


	18. It's All Over but the Crying

Fox fidgeted in her seat. The room where Maxson had delivered his eerie speech on the day of her arrival had been changed to accommodate the meeting. Just like during that meeting so long ago, the spacious room was bathed in sunlight, casting stark shadows on the floor. Maxson was sitting with his back towards the giant windows, forcing everyone else to squint if they wanted to look in his direction. Fox suspected this was done on purpose. He sat flanked by two of the Proctors – Ingram towering in her power armour on the right and Quinlan seated on a chair to the left.

Fox felt scrutinised, sitting opposite these three. The presence of Danse by her side wasn't helping much either. It was good to know he still had her back, despite everything that had happened between them. Having him so close to her was a distraction though, it clouded her head and made her thoughts cling to that moment in Greentech Genetics. Wondering what would it feel like to kiss him was definitely not appropriate. Not during a meeting with the Elder, not ever.

"The Proctors have been briefed on the situation." Maxson's voice boomed through the room as if he was about to launch into a speech. "However, it would be beneficial to hear about this personally from you, Knight, as you have a higher level of involvement in this."

The dry air in the room and the stress building up in her left her lips feeling parched. Fox licked her lips to relieve the strain in them, before catching herself in action. She clicked her teeth shut, narrowly avoiding biting her tongue in the process. "So you want me to go over the entire situation?"

"A brief overview of everything, yes. We will ask questions if anything needs further clarification." Maxson leaned back in his chair, the tips of his fingers put together as he waited for her to start.

"Well…" Fox paused, not sure where to start or how much she should reveal. She decided to go with what she had told Maxson during the first time they met. The sun in her eyes and the Elder's piercing look raised her anxiety, so she turned her head towards Ingram instead, shooting occasional glances towards Quinlan to not leave him out. "I joined the Brotherhood after the Institute had taken someone from me. While on missions and on leave, I've been looking for ways to find the Institute, to go there and see whether I could still get them back. And if not… revenge is always an option."

Proctor Quinlan leaned forward, adjusting the glasses on his nose. He seemed curious and not really bothered by the fact Fox was driven by vengeance. Ingram, however, was frowning. Fox chose to not look at her. The sentences she had formed in her head scattered into small pieces, making her unable to continue. She swallowed, trying to banish the images of Kellogg from her mind, to not think about the moment she had pulled the trigger and blasted his brains across the room in a frenzy of pure hatred.

Danse took over, since Fox remained silent. "I have supervised her on finding the needed information in certain situations, but most of the discoveries made are solely Knight Quinn's work." His voice sounded level and calculated, like he had planned what to say before the meeting. Fox suspected he had done exactly that to make sure he didn't say anything out of line. Even if he resented her for all the pain and stress she had caused him, he was still there to help her. It was impressive how he never let any of their issues affect his mission reports or Fox's search for her son.

"And what were those discoveries?" Ingram raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid you're taking too many steps at once here."

"I made contact with a reclusive scientist who had escaped from the Institute." Despite knowing nobody could look inside her head and know what the scientist looked like, Fox felt cold sweat emerging on her forehead. If the Brotherhood found out she had made a deal with a super mutant and left him alive, she would probably be thrown out. And then they would hunt down Virgil before she would manage to get him the cure. That would be another promise broken by her. It was lucky she hadn't made it into a pinky swear at least. Though with his giant fingers it would have been difficult anyway.

Fox shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on the present and not on Virgil's giant green sausage-fingers. "The scientist gave me instructions on how to gain access to the Institute."

"And that is why we went to hunt down a courser." Danse continued the explanation for her. "The Institute can only be accessed through a teleportation device of sorts, so their coursers have special technological developments to move between the Institute and the rest of the Commonwealth."

Maxson was leaning forward now, eyes fixed on Danse. "So you found a way to get into the Institute?"

"Almost." Fox took over again, knowing that explaining the technological part of this would be easier for her to handle. "The courser chip needed analysing, so we first made contact with someone from the Railroad as they know the most about Institute technology." She raised a hand in the air, a signal for the others to not interrupt her. "And no, I don't know the location of the Railroad. I have a contact in Goodneighbour who set up a meeting on neutral ground."

She decided to omit the part where she had used another Glowing Sea mission as cover for meeting up with Virgil once more. The mutated scientist had been shocked to see her again. He hadn't expected Fox to survive the encounter with the courser. _And without Danse I wouldn't have survived it…_ She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, her mind wandering to Greentech Genetics once more. _Store it away. You will deal with it later. Don't think about him._

Fox took a deep breath before continuing. "So yes, the contact had the courser chip analysed. It can be used to access the Institute, but it needs a lot of amplifying to send a person through." Maxson's brow was furrowed in confusion. Fox paused, realising she and Danse were the only people who knew she was talking about teleportation.

"Sorry, too many steps at once again. The reason why we haven't been able to find the Institute is that they are not reachable by any normal means. They are either too far away or underground or sealed off in some other way. The only way in is through teleportation."

A heavy silence fell upon the group. Fox gave them time to process the bomb she had just dropped on them. Her fingers were tracing the cold armrests of her chair, focusing on the texture of the rusty metal to keep her thoughts in one place instead of letting them roam on roads she did not want to take.

"Teleportation?" Maxson was the first to break the silence. "That is science fiction. Such things do not actually exist."

Quinlan was tapping his fingers on his chin, eyes narrowed in concentration. "I have read some theoretical texts about such things, but I didn't expect they would be possible with the technology we currently possess."

"Everything we have learned about the Institute has reinforced the idea that their technology is leaps ahead of ours." Ingram had started pacing back and forth, but stopped when Maxson shot an annoyed glance in her direction. "So let's say they do have that technology and teleportation is the only way to reach them. How do we get to them? We have no such devices."

"I have schematics for the teleporter." Fox's admission caused another shocked silence. "Please don't ask me how I got them. I need the sources to remain anonymous and safe in case I need to contact them for further information. The only thing that should be important to you at the moment is that I have the plans to build the teleportation machine."

She paused for emphasis. "And instructions for how to home in on the exact location without even knowing where the Institute is."

Maxson stood up and slammed his fist on his open palm. "We have a way in. We can go and take the Institute down from the inside." His face was radiating with pride and determination as he looked at Danse and Fox who had mimicked his moves and stood up as well. "Well done, soldiers. I knew creating a clandestine squad and having you two there would bring unexpected results. This is beyond anything I had hoped for."

Fox gave a nervous smile in response to Maxson's praise. It was excellent that the Elder was enthusiastic about the finds, but she had no way of making sure he wouldn't start asking uncomfortable questions once the initial excitement passed. She could smell her own nervous sweat and pushed her arms down so the smell wouldn't escape any further. Showing anxiety where she should be celebrating a triumph would be a bad move.

"What would you do once inside the Institute?"

Maxson's question took her by surprise. She had been too focused on making sure her body wouldn't give away her inner thoughts. Too focused on her moves to pay attention to what her brain was doing. Her answer left her mouth before she had even realised what she was about to say.

"Find Shaun and take down the fuckers who ordered his kidnapping."

Another uncomfortable silence. Fox's eyes widened in shock, her mouth hung open as she took in a sharp breath. She had said his name. She had called his kidnappers _fuckers_ in front of the Elder. _Damn. Why did I do this? This was not a part of the plan. This was not supposed to happen. They were not supposed to know._

In her panic, she turned to face Danse. His expression was blank, hiding any emotions he might have had. He did give her a small nod, which she interpreted as show of support. _He will help me through this. He can help._

"Shaun?" Maxson's thick eyebrows were quirked upwards, his body angled towards Fox as he scrutinised her face. "Is that your family member?"

Fox let her shoulders sag, admitting defeat. The truth was out. "Yes. Shaun is my son. He is ten and he must be terrified. I'm afraid to find out why they kidnapped him or what they have done to him. But I have to. I'm the only one he has left and I will not let him down."

Maxson sighed. Something flashed in his eyes. Compassion? "I'm sorry, Knight. It must be hard for you to keep working while you know your child is taken. We will do everything in our power to get him back."

That was a surprise. Apparently the austere Elder did have a heart. Fox felt a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you, Elder. And I'm sorry about the swearing. I definitely didn't plan to do that."

He waved a hand in dismissal. "That is not a concern. Your close involvement with the situation however…"

Fox's breath caught in her throat. _No. I'm so close._ The beginning of her smile faltered and disappeared as cold hands of despair got hold of her heart.

"We cannot have you leading the mission, not with your judgement clouded by personal issues. You will report to Danse on this one, as he is your mentor. Proctor Ingram will be in charge of the entire mission, mostly dealing with the technological side. Danse, you will be her right hand, leading the tactical side and coming up with the plan of attack." Maxson nodded at Ingram and Danse, who responded with the Brotherhood salute. Fox joined in, her heart beating so slowly and erratically that time seemed to move in small bursts.

"Quinn, bring Proctor Ingram up to date with all the materials you have. Once you're done with that, I expect Danse and you to report back. I have a different mission for the two of you while the machine is being built. You are more useful in the field; Ingram can handle the technological parts with the Scribes."

He gave another nod. "You are all dismissed."

Quinlan stayed behind to discuss something with Maxson. Quinn rushed out after Ingram, straining to keep up with her power armour fuelled speed. The Proctor stopped in the corridor, allowing Fox to catch up with her. She gave a reassuring smile, seeing the stress on Fox's face.

"Quinn, you don't have to do the briefing this instant. I have to wrap up some things at the power armour station. Meet me there in two hours. Then I can devote my full attention to the schematics."

"Understood. I'll be there." Fox watched Ingram's back disappear and then slumped against the metal walls, letting out a breath she had been holding for a while. Danse placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, making her look up in surprise. She had forgotten he was still there.

"Are you alright?" His dark brown eyes were laced with genuine concern. Fox couldn't decide whether it was hurting or consoling her to see that. His touch felt like a burn, giving that bittersweet ache of wanting something and knowing it was impossible.

"I'm…" Fox started the sentence, but couldn't end it. The words in her head got caught in her throat, never making it across her lips.

"This is not a good place to talk." Danse looked around before giving Fox's shoulder a gentle pull. "Come, let's find a better spot. Don't show this here, not where others are passing by."

She let herself be guided along the corridors, putting on a stoic face and responding to the greetings of passing soldiers with an appropriate level of enthusiasm. Danse stopped near the biological research department and checked the surroundings again. Satisfied with what he had seen, he nodded his head towards a small nook that was hidden away behind crates and tall metal lockers.

Fox sat down on a sealed crate and closed her eyes, losing herself in the chatter and noises of the research department. It was the perfect noise cover and the lockers provided a shield so that they were hidden from sight.

She looked up when she heard Danse sitting down on the crate next to her. He leaned towards her, elbows propped on knees and a worried look in his eyes. "That meeting did not go as planned." His voice was quiet, almost inaudible in the noise around them.

"If you're referring to the fact that I told the most powerful people in the Brotherhood that I am closely tied to the Institute… yeah, that was a low point." Fox tried to joke, to make the air lighter. "Hey, at least I didn't say I helped to create the entire damn thing! Now that would have been brilliant."

Danse didn't respond at first; he just looked at her with the kind of seriousness that hurt her inside. "It's okay to feel frustrated and scared." He shook his head, letting out a deep breath. "I'm not going to pretend I know what this feels like, but it must be difficult. It is alright to show emotions. You don't have to hide everything behind smiling and jokes."

Fox felt an imaginary train hit her, knocking the breath out of her. Without admitting it to herself, that was exactly what she had been doing. Hiding her emotions, covering everything up with laughing and silly jokes and pretending everything was better than it really was. The pretence was easier than accepting the reality that threatened to tear her heart into pieces.

She buried her face in hands, helplessness and loneliness taking her over. The tears she had been holding back for so long had finally arrived, pouring from her eyes like unstoppable little rivers of sorrow. Not even Danse's presence made her feel guilty for showing that anymore. She was past caring.

_I told them Shaun is ten. I don't even know how old the memory is that I saw. What if he is older? How will I explain that? My god, how do I explain that to them? Will they find out what had really happened? Will I be taken captive for all the lies? Kept as a prisoner, using my knowledge of the pre-war world and technology for the Brotherhood's goals? Kept away from Shaun, who would be forced to become a squire?_

Her breath came in small gasps as she drove herself closer to a panic attack with each passing moment. She felt herself getting lost in the darkness inside, detached from her body and falling into deep nothingness.

Just as the numbness started setting in, Fox was pulled back into reality by strong arms that wrapped around her. She opened her eyes in confusion, barely seeing anything through the teardrops adorning her lashes. Danse had moved to her crate, his arms cradling her and one hand gently encouraging her head to lean on his chest.

Fox held on to him like he was her anchor, desperately clinging to him as tears continued flowing. She breathed in the smell of metal and power armour grease that followed him no matter what missions he had been on. Danse made a comforting sound, his hand tangled in her hair as he stroked her head with slow tender moves. Feeling that made Fox snort in laughter to her own surprise.

Danse stopped and pulled himself apart from Fox to check her face, eyebrows scrunched up with concern. "Do you have trouble breathing?"

That unleashed a wave of laughter that rolled up from her stomach and bubbled out from between her lips that were swollen from crying. The emptiness inside was filling up like a balloon swelling inside her, illuminating her face with emotions she didn't even know she still had. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, shoulders shaking.

"No, I'm fine." She gave him a wide grin, face still puffy and pink. _I must look positively insane right now. Poor Danse, stuck with his subordinate being weird yet again._ "I just… well, I realised you have totally upped your comforting game. And for some reason the discovery made me laugh. And then I laughed because I felt ridiculous."

Danse looked uncomfortable at first, but the continuing smile on her face infected him as well and made the corners of his mouth inch upwards. "You're a strange woman, Rosa."

Hearing him say her name sent a jolt through her stomach. The dread she had felt was slowly getting replaced with the warmth spreading in her, the warmth from him saying her real name and from him still gently gripping her shoulders as he looked at her.

"Can't argue with that." The small creases in the corners of her eyes crinkled as she looked up at him. "I've always been an odd one." She placed a hand on his outstretched arm, revelling at the way her heartbeat hitched at the touch. "Thank you, Dans- …Alex. Thank you for being here even after I did my best to push you away."

Something inside her pushed her forward, made her want to close the distance between them again and enjoy the feel of his warmth against her skin. Despite Fox struggling with herself, her fingers were involuntarily travelling upwards on his arm until she found herself touching the side of his bearded jawline.

The stubble scraped at her fingertips, sending shivers along her arm and down her spine. Neither said anything, but there was a painful look in Danse's eyes. He cupped her hand in his, leaving her trapped between his cheek and hand. Her breath caught in her throat once more, but from yearning instead of despair. She wanted to smother him in a tight embrace, to hold on to him and never let go.

_He is too good for you._

The cacophony of the Scribes working at their research posts had diminished into barely audible background noise in her head. Fox felt very aware of her own breathing, the noise growing louder until she was certain Danse heard every single one of her breaths and heartbeats. He must have heard it, because she noticed his breath adopting a similar pattern, his hand closing down on hers just a bit harder as he held hers against his face.

_You don't deserve him._

The harsh voice in her head was gaining volume, drowning out everything else. It sliced at her without abandon, hitting where it hurt the most.

_You're taking him down with you._

Danse's free hand was on her knee, making her heart jolt once more. His touch burned her, invigorated her, made her want to be in his arms again.

_He deserves better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to MangoBait and Tafferling who offered invaluable help with proofreading this chapter <3
> 
> If you want extra feels when reading the second half of the chapter (in case you want to torture yourself with re-reading), try it with this song: _[You Are the Moon by The Hush Sound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpUP0jjicqY)_. I stumbled upon that one by accident when looking for background music for writing. The entire emotional part was written with this on repeat, since it made me feel the right mixture of happiness and heartbreak.


	19. Crazy He Calls Me

It was ready. The teleporter – or the Signal Interceptor, as the schematics given by Virgil named it – was standing tall and proud next to the airport. Fox took in the view in front of her. The result of Ingram's hard work was magnificent, the metal gleaming in the last rays of the sunset. Raising her head, she saw the Prydwen floating above the airport, reminding her who owned the machine she so desperately needed.

Maxson stood next to her and Danse, chest puffed with pride. "Good work, Proctor." He smiled at Ingram who accepted the compliment with a gracious bow of her head.

"The construction is complete and the teleporter is ready to work." Even though Ingram was supposed to be celebrating the successful project, she looked sombre. She coughed her throat clear before continuing with concern in her voice. "Maxson, we have an issue. I've done the calculations several times and Haylen has triple-checked them. This machine won't be able to handle more than one person."

She shook her head with a sigh. "Even worse, I'm not sure it would manage an entire person. The courser chip Quinn retrieved was built for teleporting several people at a time, if needed. Unfortunately, it got damaged during the retrieval. The way it works, it treats organic matter as data that needs to be transferred between locations. Some of the memory space in the chip got destroyed, so I am not sure how much data will get carried over to the Institute before the transmission cuts out."

Fox realised she had her mouth hanging open, so she closed it with a click. Maxson frowned as he addressed Ingram. "Are you saying it won't work?"

"I'm saying we can't risk sending anyone through with power armour or anything heavy." Ingram shot a glance at the platform that stood ready to accept its human sacrifice. "Unless we want to accidentally send over everything minus the helmet and perhaps an arm and a foot. If it even works in such a clean way. It can also happen that whoever tries to get teleported will end up having their blood on one and skeleton on the other side."

"Thanks for that image." Fox cringed and rubbed her arm that had started itching uncomfortably.

"Sending someone in full power armour would be a bad idea anyway." Maxson clasped his wrist in the other hand behind his back as he spoke, eyes trained on the platform. "If we can only teleport one person, it will be a reconnaissance mission instead of a take-over. The soldier will have to be small and quiet, adept at gathering information without being seen."

_This is my chance. They will send me and I will get to rescue Shaun._

He turned to Danse. "I'm thinking Knight Statham. He has a clear head in dangerous situations and he should be able to handle the mission without issues. You're in charge of strategy on this one; what do you think?"

A wave of icy panic washed over Fox, her focus dissolving as the world around her darkened. _No. They can't do this._ Danse gave Fox a small side glance, a frown on his face. _He will never send me. Not after I've clearly shown I'm too emotionally invested, I'm too weak, I'm not good at dealing with stress._ She shut her eyes, not wanting to look at Danse as he agreed with Maxson's proposal.

The dreaded words never came. She opened her eyes with a start as she heard Danse's response, laced with that deep rumble that his voice always had. "With all due respect, Statham would be a terrible choice. The Institute is leaps ahead of us in technological development; we already established that during our first meeting on this mission. As excellent a soldier as Statham is, his proficiency with technology is questionable at best."

Danse slammed a fist in his palm to emphasise his words, mimicking Maxson's habit. "What we need is a soldier who can handle hacking and dealing with sensitive information as well as small arms proficiency, if it comes down to that. The limitations of the teleportation machine dictate that we send someone with a small build, to give them the optimal chance of survival."

He gestured towards Fox, who had to do her best to keep her hope from bursting out in words and making her say something she would regret. "Knight Quinn has plenty of practice in covert ops and she's an excellent asset to the Brotherhood. She can deal with delicate situations, as proven by our latest recon mission. She not only kept her cover intact the entire time, but she also secured a pre-war scientific robot for us, speeding up Senior Scribe Neriah's research. She is the best fit for this mission."

Maxson frowned, processing Danse's sales talk. Fox tried to quiet her heart, since it was going insane with hope that she would get chosen and fear that she would actually have to go through with this and get disintegrated to be put together in the Institute. She could only hope the instructions for putting her back together would be accurate. Would be awful to end up with a foot growing out of her head. Though it would make headstands easier.

Fox snapped back to attention when Maxson gave a nod. "Very well. Knight Quinn it is then." He turned to Fox who was clenching her hand behind her back to contain herself. "Be ready at sunrise tomorrow."

"Yes sir. Thank you, Elder Maxson." She saluted and said "ad victoriam", as a proper Brotherhood soldier should. She was chosen. She was the first outside person to set foot in the Institute. Except for those who had been kidnapped, of course. She didn't want to think of that though. She could think about that once the mission was done and Shaun was there with her. _I will get him back._

Fox remained standing in her spot when Maxson and Ingram left. She took in the fresh air of the late spring evening, letting the light wind wash over her and clear her head. After everything, she would be getting to her goal. She was getting to the Institute.

A relieved smile spread over her face. She turned to thank Danse for backing her up, but the look he had made the words die in her throat. He looked haunted, his eyes dark and eyebrows slanted downwards. Noticing Fox staring at him, he coughed his voice clear. "You should get some rest before the mission, Knight."

He spun on his heels and made his way towards the vertibird landing zone, leaving Fox behind with a fading smile and confusion in her heart.

She hesitated for a long while. She retreated to her sleeping quarters that were blissfully empty at that hour. Most people were still eating dinner or enjoying their free time. In an effort to calm her fraying nerves, she swapped her uniform for comfortable sweatpants and a T-shirt before doing anything else. Busying herself around her bunk and preparing for the early morning mission wasn't providing enough distraction though. Fox wanted to go and talk to him, to ask what was wrong and thank him for his help.

_It's better this way. You can't give him what he needs, so don't give him hope where there is none._

She winced. The voice was shouting at her every time he appeared in her thoughts, every time she felt hope that something could happen. Deep down she knew it was impossible. He was her Commanding Officer. He was wise and strong and worth a much better life than being stuck with Fox's issues.

_You should leave. Pack all your things for the mission. Pack everything and go. Don't return once you have Shaun. Find a safe place for the two of you to live, raise him to be a good person._

She pushed the heels of her palms to her eyes, trying to suppress the voice and the pressure building up behind her eyebrows.

_Danse will have a better life without you._

Fox dug her fingers into her head, feeling the hard bone of her skull under her nails.

_Even Shaun will have a better life without you. Rescue him from the Institute and take him to some kind people. Take him to Diamond City, he will be safe here._

She crumpled down on her bed, hitting the mattress with a low thud.

_You will only ruin them. Leave._

She took a deep breath, attempting to clear the dark clouds in her head and focus on the physical sensations instead of the intrusive thoughts. The rough fabric of the blanket under her palms helped. Concentrating on the cold light of the lamps brought her closer to feeling real again. The pull of the scars from various battles connected her to her body instead of the awful voice that wanted to bring her down.

An image of the long scar that crossed Danse's eyebrow appeared in her mind, anchoring her in place. _Danse. I can't leave him like this. Not after almost kissing him twice. I need to make him understand, to make him see that the fault is in me. I can't leave him wondering. I need to sever the ties properly, to allow him to get closure and move on._

She pushed herself up from the bed, determination fuelling her moves. Her resolve guided her through the winding corridors, forced her to keep moving until she reached his door. There she froze in place, hand poised an inch from the door.

_He won't want to see me. I have hurt him too much. I should leave._

Just as she let her hand fall down at her side and readied herself to leave, the door opened. Danse looked at her with confusion, brows knitted together. He had also changed out of his flight suit, accidentally matching Fox's outfit down to the colours. She nearly smiled at that, but his weary voice put a stop to her amusement. "Was there something you needed?"

"I… I just wanted to talk." Fox averted her glance, choosing to look at the doorframe instead. "If this is not the right time, I can leave."

"No, I was just about to have a short talk with Art- …with Elder Maxson. It won't take long, feel free to wait for me here." Danse pushed the door fully open, revealing his personal quarters. He gestured at the desk in the middle of the room, a chair neatly pushed underneath it. "Take a seat, I'll be back soon."

Fox's heart skipped a beat as she stepped past Danse, so close that she nearly brushed her shoulder across his chest. _No, Fox. You can't._ "Thank you. I'll see you soon."

The door fell shut as Danse left. She was alone in his private quarters. Getting a sneak peek at his personal world. She took a look at the chair, but didn't pull it out to sit. Instead, she walked over to the bookshelf near the door. It was stocked with a surprisingly wide selection of pre-war literature, from non-fiction books about wars to intricate fictional stories about times modern and old, peppered with some children's books that made her eyes widen in amusement.

Looking around in the tidy room, a stray book on his nightstand caught her attention. It looked familiar. A small jolt in her memory told her she had seen it several times on longer missions. That was Danse's secret bedtime story, a thick book with a nondescript green cover, any text or image worn off long ago. She walked over and slid the book open, careful to not move it from its place. A hesitant smile appeared as she recognised the text. _Oh Danse. Of all the books you could have chosen…_

She shook her head with a small chuckle and shut the book. The nightstand was otherwise unoccupied and the bed next to it was made with military precision, no creases in sight. The shelves on the walls had a few personal effects placed in straight rows. A clean-looking flag folded in a neat triangle. A bobblehead in a vault suit was placed next to it, the joyful face of the figurine partially melted off.

She stepped closer to inspect the small item on the other side of the bobblehead. Holotags. Chastising herself for intruding in his private life, she stood on her tiptoes to read the writing on the them. Seeing the name, she covered her mouth with a hand to muffle the pained gasp. He had Cutler's holotags. He had kept them after all these years, displayed proudly next to the flag and the… why was the bobblehead there?

The unmistakeable sound of Danse's approaching footsteps made her rush to the desk and grab the chair to sit down. She had barely landed on it when the door opened and Danse entered, a weary look on his face.

_You're making his life worse._

Fox pressed her nails in the soft flesh of her thigh, concentrating on the pain instead of the mean voice that had returned. "Did the meeting go well?"

"What?" Danse frowned, shutting the door behind him. "Oh. Yes. Nothing you should worry about." He walked over to the bed and took a seat, falling heavily on the mattress. "You wanted to talk."

Suddenly feeling nervous, Fox wrung her hands. The determination that had driven her to his room had dissolved, getting mixed with the desire to leave and keep running, to never look back. She looked towards the door, mentally preparing herself to leave. Something next to the door made her snort in surprise.

"You have a dog bowl here." She was amused to find Danse looking rather sheepish. "Why do you have a dog bowl with food in it if there's no-" A grin spread over her face. "Ooooh. You're feeding the cats! I had been wondering who takes care of all the stray ones here. You've adopted them as your pets!"

The discovery was so ridiculous and amazing that it made everything else disappear. Danse was a cat person. For some reason it didn't even surprise her that much. What was funny was the fact that he had been hiding that, sneaking cat food into his quarters. The mental image of a small herd of cats running towards his room for feeding time made her feel absurdly happy.

Danse didn't respond. He seemed as flustered as Fox had been moments ago. "I checked up on Codsworth today." The sudden change in topic took Fox a moment to catch up with. She shot Danse a quizzical look, prompting him to continue. "The robot seems to be satisfied with its assignment in the research area, especially now that Curie is there to keep it company."

"I'm still amazed Neriah accepted two new robots there. Though I guess they whine less about the stench of the mole rats than scribes do." Fox went along with his offered topic, unsure how to steer the conversation to what she needed to say. She knew Danse was mentioning Codsworth only because he had been her Mr. Handy. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared whether the robot was enjoying his new life or not. They were just machines to him.

Another moment of silence. Fox started absentmindedly rubbing her arm, eyes darting around the room. She smiled as she noticed the lone book again. "Why would you keep that as your bedtime story?" She looked down, hiding a small smile. "I mean… I could have expected something like Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ from you. Or something else that is serious and well, Brotherhoody. I would never have guessed you were a fan of Oliver Twist of all things."

Danse leaned back on the bed, his back propped against the wall. "And why is that so surprising?"

Fox smiled openly now, recalling their drunken talk on the flight deck. "I thought you were into stories of happy childhoods. You know, stories with wholesome families and schools and idyllic pre-war lives." She rubbed the side of her head, ruffling the hair that was for once in a somewhat groomed state. "At the very least I'd expect you to choose something that is _not_ a depressing story about an orphan in a world of crooks and thieves."

Danse gave a rueful smile and mirrored her gesture, digging his fingers through his dark hair. "It gives me hope. As awful as the situations in the book are, Oliver remains hopeful. He doesn't get corrupted by the world around him. I guess that in some small way I find parallels with the world we live in. It's a cesspool of death and mutations, but there's always people who keep going, who keep finding ways to make this world a better place."

"Yes, but there's other books like that. Books that have those happy families you like so much." Fox was surprised by the bitter undertone that seeped into her voice, making her sound harsher than intended.

"I do. But I also like realism." Danse stretched his arms and let them fall back in his lap. "Having grown up as an orphan myself, I can appreciate the stark reality in the book and gain hope from the innocence of Oliver."

Fox's jaw dropped once more. That had started happening on a surprisingly frequent basis. She shut her mouth as soon as she noticed what she was doing. _Should glue my teeth together. No need to make him feel even more awful. But… damn, he is an orphan? I can get his obsession with "happy pre-war families" now. Goddamn._

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, not sure whether she should look at Danse to show how truly sorry she was or look away to give him time to gather himself. _He never talks much about his past, so it can't have been easy for him to part with such intimate information._

"Don't be, you had nothing to do with it." Danse shrugged, a mask of stoicism on his face. "Dwelling on the past doesn't make anything better."

"Yet you still gather mementos from the past," said Fox as she gestured towards the shelves, forgetting her inner filter yet again. Danse's glance darted towards the holotags and he sighed.

"I should have known you would look around while I was gone. I said it doesn't make anything better, not that I was good at not dwelling on the past." The sorrow in his voice made Fox mentally kick herself for saying anything.

_You will always make things worse for him. You will hurt him._

* * *

The sudden look of misery on her face made Danse frown. _I should not have said that. She feels bad enough. I shouldn't add to her weight by saying things that distress her._ He let his head sag for a moment, but then snapped back to attention as Quinn let out an unmistakeable noise of pain.

"What's wrong?" He was ready to race to her side, but stopped himself. The last time he had tried consoling her, they had nearly ended up kissing. Again. And then she had left. She didn't want his comfort and he was not about to push it on her. _Can't really blame her. I'm her CO and I shouldn't even be thinking about her in such ways. It is entirely inappropriate._

She hadn't responded, so Danse pushed himself up from against the wall, battling with his urge to go check on her. "Rosa?"

She remained sitting angled away from him, shoulders hunched in a sheepish way. "It's… it's nothing, just got surprised. I may have been playing with the pen on your desk and I might have broken it a bit. As in there's probably no way you can use it again."

Rosa turned to face him, looking absolutely ridiculous. She had managed to break it indeed – the evidence was proudly displayed under her left eye in the form of a blue splotch of ink. Danse let out a sharp breath. _She is alright._ He nearly chuckled in relief as he looked at her annoyed expression. "Don't move. There's ink on your face."

She was muttering something nondescript as she pushed the ruined pen away on the desk, smearing some ink on the wood and her hand. _That's going to take some time to clean._ Danse gave his head a small shake as he made his way to a very disgruntled Rosa.

He reached in his pocket to take out a clean handkerchief. Rosa raised an eyebrow at that. "You seriously carry those around? In my time only the elderly did that."

Danse narrowed his eyes at her with badly concealed humour. "Well, you should count yourself lucky that I'm old-fashioned then. Stay still."

He folded the handkerchief a few times to make sure the ink wouldn't seep through and colour his fingers as well. Hovering above her wasn't giving a good view of the situation, so he squatted down to avoid accidentally brushing the ink into her eye. With his face so close to hers, he had to remind himself to focus on the task at hand and not on the way her lips were slightly parted as she looked at him. Nor the way her breath was gently brushing on his cheek as he leaned in to catch a stray stream of ink making its way down her face. And definitely not on his desire to close the gap and plant his lips on hers.

"There, all done." His throat felt dry as he stood up again, holding his now blue handkerchief carefully as to not dye anything else. The blue splotch on her face remained, but that would stay there for a while still until it wore off on its own. At least she wasn't a hazard to his room anymore. _Wait, not yet. One more thing. I don't want blue fingerprints all over the Prydwen._

He found the cleanest spot he could and held out the napkin towards her hands. "Your fingers." Wordlessly, she reached out her ink-covered fingers, letting Danse wipe off the worst of it. She pondered her blue hand while Danse placed the ruined handkerchief on the desk.

"Thank you." She smiled, but her eyes looked sad. "Danse, I came here to say something. And you're not going to like it, but you need to listen. Promise me you won't interrupt."

Danse frowned. Whatever she had to say, it wasn't promising anything good with a preface like that. Rosa saw his hesitation and lifted her clean hand, the pinky angled upwards. "You have to pinky-swear or I won't talk."

He shook his head with a small smile, but hooked their fingers together. The touch was too fleeting, she let go almost immediately after shaking their hands to seal the promise. He clenched his other hand in a fist, forcing himself to focus. "Alright, I promise. I will not speak until you're done."

She nodded and smiled, but yet again the smile didn't reach the rest of her face. "Thank you." She faltered, looking at Danse's towering form. "Perhaps it would be better if we both sat down." She looked around, but there was only one chair in the room. "Uh… do you mind if we sit on the bed?"

He nodded, unsure whether his ban on talking was already in effect. They took a seat on the bed, Danse taking notice of how she deliberately placed herself at a decent distance from him. Rosa seemed to be struggling with words, so he gave her time to compose herself.

Eventually, she lifted her chin in determination, though her eyes had a desperate gleam in them. "I wanted to thank you for all the help. Without you, I wouldn't be on the verge of rescuing Shaun." She wrung her hands, clearly in distress. "Look, I know the mission is going to be dangerous. And that a million things could go wrong. And I know you've grown to care for me."

Danse felt heat rising on his neck and face, making him want to shield himself behind something. _Don't be ridiculous, you are not a teenage boy anymore. You're a grown man. Act like one._

The prominent pink hue of his face only made Rosa shrink further away, remorse in her eyes. "I know you will worry once I've gone through the teleporter. But I want you to know that whatever happens, it will not be your fault. The only thing you've done is to help me through all of this. Well, except for those times when you _could_ have ordered Cade to release me from the damn infirmary, but you didn't. I can forgive you for that. One day."

Danse smiled at her attempt at joking. She responded with a similar smile – small, yet worried for what was about to come.

"Danse, if I don't return…" Rosa held her hand up, seeing that he was about to interrupt her. "I'm not done yet." She took a moment to compose herself, the shaking of her hands visible even though she was pressing them together. "If I don't return, you are not allowed to blame yourself for anything. Just know that I care for you and that I want you to have a good life. You deserve something good."

Quietly, she added: "You deserve someone good."

Rosa fell silent after that. Danse waited to be signalled whether he could talk yet, but her gaze was fixed on her hands that were still shaking in her lap. He waited another moment to give her a chance to continue talking, but that didn't happen.

"For someone so smart, you sure can be foolish."

She looked up at his voice, her face flustered. "Excuse me?"

"You say I deserve someone good. Am I to believe you don't count yourself as such?"

She let out an incredulous snort, face contorted in a painful expression. "How could I? I've only done things that hurt you. And it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because I would end up destroying you like I do with all I care for."

Danse's heart stopped for a moment. She had said it so nonchalantly that he was sure she had no idea what had just come out of her mouth. _She is in love with me?_

The realisation dawned on her face, making her blanche and stare with such wide eyes that Danse feared it must have hurt.

_She is in love with me._

He felt his lips curling upwards and opening in an unstoppable smile. All the warnings he had given himself, all the rules flew out of his head as the full meaning of her admission sunk in. The warmth ballooning inside him spread out from his stomach, erasing all worries he might have had.

"I'm so sorry." She looked terrified, ready to escape. "I should not have said this. You deserve so much better than someone like me. I don't deserve yo-"

He cut through her sentence. "Rosa, shut up." His voice was low and peppered with amusement, the rapid beating of his heart adding an extra layer of tremors to what he said. "Sometimes I seriously wonder whether you're a bit crazy. Did you think you didn't deserve love? That I deserve someone better? Better than you, of all people?" He paused, eyes narrowing in affection. "You absolutely infuriating woman."

Her mouth was pressed together in a thin line, lips quivering as she tried to suppress whatever emotions were running rampant in her head. She took a shaky breath, eyes glossing over. "I will hurt you. All I do is hurt people. I will-"

Danse cut her off by moving forward and grabbing a hold of her, hands tangled in her ridiculous and amazing carrot-shaded hair, and pulled himself so close to her that he could taste her breath. "Not one more word. You've run out of words for tonight."

A tentative smile appeared on her face, lighting up her eyes. Danse slid a thumb over her cheekbone and followed it with his hand, the thumb sliding to her lips that he had yearned to touch for so long. She shivered under his touch, still smiling but with tears starting to stream from her eyes. He was startled for a moment, until he realised she was crying of relief rather than sadness.

_She is in love with me._

He buried his hands in her hair, pulling her closer to him, closing the gap and covering her warm mouth with his lips. His cheeks were wet with her tears as they kissed, his chest was aching with longing, with the need to touch more of her, to show her how much he wanted her.

She cupped the sides of his face, caressing his hair and his beard and stopping on his neck, the tremble in her hands driving him insane. She pulled their lips apart, only to cover his neck in rows of kisses, his adam's apple jolting under her touch. Danse groaned as he tilted his head back to give her more space to explore, to let her continue kissing him in that infuriatingly maddening way, making his skin break out in goosebumps as her lips brushed over it. Noticing how she had to stretch to reach him properly unleashed a small rumbling chuckle from his chest.

Rosa pulled her head back in surprise. "Was it tickly? I don't have to do that if it's weird."

"I thought I said you were out of words." Danse ran a finger over her lips, relishing at the softness.

"I'm just…" She still kept talking. Of course she would. Danse's chuckle was cut off by the end of her sentence. "I'm just worried I'm not good enough for you."

_Oh for the love of steel. What kind of a twisted life has she had to genuinely believe that?_

"Rosa, if you ever think anything that ridiculous again, I'm going to have to make sure you can't say it out."

He cringed. _Way to go, cowboy. Just intimidate her into not talking. Because that is the way to win hearts in the Wasteland._

Instead of her running away – as he fully expected her to do after that display – her eyes twinkled with mischief as a new smile erased the distress on her face. "Was that a threat or a promise?"

"Both." Encouraged by her grin, he wrapped his arms around her, losing balance and splaying both of them on his bed. He propped himself up on his elbows immediately, afraid that he had hurt her by falling on her.

She didn't look injured. There was a gleam of longing in her eyes instead and the way she sucked in the side of her lower lip as she looked up at him made his mind blank for a moment. _She is perfect._

Danse lowered himself on top of her, careful to hold his own weight as to not crush her. She squirmed against him, mouth partially open. Her chest heaved with deep breaths, turning into sighs of yearning at her lips. He could barely contain himself. A deep ache was building up inside him, driving him forward, making him assault her lips with kisses that tasted of salt from her tears. Her hands slid over his back, her nails digging in as he deepened the kiss, lost to his desire.

He lifted his head for long enough to allow her to draw a breath. She arched her back to allow his arms to wrap around her, to pull her even closer. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, his hand slid under her shirt to touch her naked back; her soft skin under his calloused fingers made him groan with the deep hunger raising its head inside him.

She responded in kind, pulling Danse's shirt upwards, giving her fingers a chance to roam freely across his chest. His skin was burning, the clothes were an unwelcome obstruction, not allowing them the closeness they both yearned for. He came to her aid, pulling the shirt off in a hasty move.

He halted, halfway above her. She was lying on his bed, her face full of emotions he had not dared to hope for in his wildest dreams. The fervent joy and admiration burning him up inside made him take a deep breath, savouring the moment. The mess in his head had turned into one sentence.

_I'm in love with Rosa Quinn._


	20. Time to Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Important information in the notes at the end of this chapter!)

She awoke with a start, eyes still squeezed shut as she tried to erase the images of her nightmare from her head. Shaun wasn't there. Shaun wasn't there, so it was also impossible that she had witnessed his death. It was impossible that-

Fox sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly conscious of something weighing her down, trapping her, making her already rapid heartbeat switch to frantic mode.

Her eyes shot open. The terror melted away as she saw the source of the weight. Danse was fast asleep, his arm draped across her as there was no other place to place it. They were squished together on his narrow bed that was clearly not made for two, his thigh sticking to hers with a thin layer of sweat between them and her hand halfway stuck under his side.

She smiled, taking in the wonderful sight in front of her. Danse looked so peaceful, his prominent eyebrows in a relaxed state for once. His chest was adorned by a few blue smears. _Huh. I guess it wasn't all dry yet._ She checked his face again to make sure she hadn't accidentally smudged him with war paint. _All clear. Thank fuck. As hilarious as he would have looked, I wouldn't want to explain to the elder why we're both blue._

She herself felt anything but blue. The voice in her head had quieted, giving space to her own thoughts. It was blissfully quiet. She smiled and leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheekbone, just because she could.

Danse stirred from sleep, an expression of pure happiness spreading over his face as he opened his eyes. It was such a beautiful sight that it hurt her inside, made her want to freeze that moment and savour it forever.

"Good morning." He propped his head on his elbow, smiling at her. Fox crinkled her nose.

"Good morning to you, too. Too bad your morning breath isn't as good."

Danse looked flustered for a moment, but then grinned. "Yours is quite the same, I should say. Or shouldn't, if I wanted to be polite."

Fox chuckled. "When have I ever been polite?" She pulled her hand out from under his side, wincing in the process. "Well, this one's dead. Your bed is definitely not made for sexy shenanigans." She shook her arm, causing the squashed hand to flop around in the air. "Yup, dead."

Danse had apparently chosen not to respond to her ridiculousness. Instead he was lying back with that small satisfied grin that Fox wanted to see on his face every time he looked at her. Though perhaps mixed with that expression of pure adoration and love that seemed almost embarrassing. Or the look that seemed to burn through her, that look of desire that made her want to gasp for air.

She smirked and placed her still numb hand on his side, not feeling any of it. She had seen a lot of Danse and his expressions the night before and she intended to see way more before she had to go to breakfa-

"Oh shit." Fox's eyes widened, the pleasant warmth in her replaced with dread. "The time. Danse, I think I'm late."

Both scrambled up from the bed, groaning when they peeled apart the thighs had gotten glued with sweat. The room was filled with Fox's curses as both of them searched for their discarded items of clothing. _No time to wash. Goddamn. I really need a shower. And clean clothes. But there's no damn time. They must all be there already. Fuck._

Clothes haphazardly tossed on, she ran fingers through her hair, trying to tame the mess. Nothing happened. _Goddamn._ "I might as well walk in with a giant sign that reads _I just had sex_." She glared at Danse for laughing at her anguished voice. _Unfair. He looks fucking perfect and I look like something the cat dragged in._

"You should get changed." Danse nodded at her T-shirt and sweatpants. "Not really an appropriate uniform for the mission."

"I'm going in undercover anyway." Danse's look made her grunt in annoyance. "Yeah, sure, I know what you mean. But there's no fucking time!" He held her gaze, using his CO look instead of one of those that Fox had catalogued away from the previous night. "Ugh." She gave her voice a mock-cheerful tone as she saluted. "Sir-yes-sir!"

Fox grabbed her boots, shoved them on and marched towards the door, eyebrows drawn together. It was only in her own quarters, frantically looking for appropriate clothes with enough pockets to carry everything she needed, that she realised she hadn't said goodbye to Danse. Not even a kiss.

* * *

Fox stepped towards the Signal Interceptor, her legs shaky and head stubbornly held high. Despite her heart threatening to find a way out of her chest, she refused to look scared. Danse had told Maxson to choose her and she would not let him down. She had to look the part.

She was welcomed by a surprisingly big crowd. _Then again, it makes sense. Who wouldn't want to be here to see Knight Quinn getting disintegrated into atoms? To witness either the greatest success the Brotherhood had experienced in ages… or to see said Knight being spattered across the parking lot. Either way, it's a sight not to be missed._

Maxson stood near the teleporter, hands clasped behind his back. He looked taller than usual, the glint of anticipation evident in his eyes as they shone in the rays of the sun peeking over the horizon.

Fox took a deep breath before approaching the inner circle of the crowd. "Elder Maxson." She nodded her head towards him and got a nod back. _Great, Elder approval. I guess I just gained a level in the Brotherhood power ranks._

Maxson held a small speech for the crowd, but Fox couldn't focus on even a word of that. Her eyes were flitting between people, trying to find Danse. _Did he not come?_ Was the idea of her leaving so painful that he decided to not attend? _You've already broken him._

She felt her shoulders sag in relief as Danse's familiar frame caught her eye. He was there, halfway hidden behind Haylen. She was giving Fox an encouraging smile, but Fox barely noticed it, filing it away in her subconscious. _He is hurting._

She could see his jaw clenching, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the contraption that Fox was about to use. _He is hurting and it's your fault._ Fox's heart dropped, lodging itself somewhere between her intestines. Everything felt heavy and foreign. Even the weapon at her side felt wrong, the metal of it under her fingers so different from what she was used to. It took her a moment to realise that she hadn't taken Righteous Authority, but had swapped it for a more inconspicuous pistol that wouldn't give away her affiliation to the Brotherhood.

The silence alerted her to the fact that Maxson had finished. She had a moment to haul herself back to the present before everyone broke out in shouts of "ad victoriam" and salutes. She went through the motions, vaguely registering that she was moving and saying something.

Haylen stepped forward, something in her hands. Fox noticed that even her hands had freckles on them. How had she never seen that before? Had she really been that engrossed in whatever technical thingamajig they had been repairing that she had no extra attention to pay to her surroundings? The freckles were nice though. She had always wished she'd have more of them herself. Heck, freckles were the best part of being a ginger. Possibly the only good part.

Haylen was staring at her. _Had she said anything?_ Time seemed to be at a standstill and Fox's brain was full of cotton, slowing all thoughts to a painfully drowsy pace. She accepted the item Haylen had been holding out for her, straining to focus on it. A holotape. She pocketed it, making sure that the zipper was properly closed.

"You just have to find a terminal with a holotape slot and then download as much of their internal data as you can." Haylen put a hand on her arm and gave it a light squeeze. "I don't have to instruct you on the details. You'll do just fine."

Fox managed to squeeze out a genuine-sounding _thank you_ , before Haylen enveloped her in a strong hug, her arms shaking as she embraced her friend. Fox had to remind herself to hug back, feeling everything through a disorienting haze.

"You have something blue on your face," whispered Haylen as they hugged.

_Blue? Ah yes._ "Had a little mishap with a pen." Fox's response was appropriately casual, almost as if she wasn't about to step onto a teleportation machine without being prepared for what was about to come, without even finding time to properly say goodbye in case the worst should happen.

Danse stepped up, his jaw still clenched. They shared a pained look, not daring to get any closer to each other with the audience looking at them. "I'm proud of you, soldier." Fox had to admit he was good at the business-like voice. The expression on his face could have been explained with having a bad night – it was no secret that Danse looked like he was two nights behind on sleep most of the time. Fox felt a tiny wave of relief over the good cover story.

They shook hands, holding on to each other just a moment longer than necessary. Fox felt her heart flutter when she noticed the splotch of blue on his fingers. _Looks like some ended up on him anyway._ As she let go of his hand and turned to walk towards the platform, she noticed Haylen staring at Danse's hands, confusion on her face. _Not now. You'll deal with this later. Ignore it._

Fox swallowed and walked away. Every fibre of her was screaming out for Danse's embrace, telling her to turn around and run to him, to ignore what anyone else would think and just kiss him. She clenched her hand in a fist and kept walking, even as her heart felt like it was breaking inside.

Everything turned into a blur. Maxson said something more, people cheered, Ingram patted her on the shoulder and offered some words of comfort that Fox couldn't understand, she was standing on the platform and everything started to shake.

The vibrations were getting stronger, the insides of her body moved in every direction like she was getting torn apart. Everything felt wrong, as if she was about to disintegrate into nothingness and just cease existing. A stronger jolt of movement nearly toppled her over, making her wrap her arms around herself as a cry left her lips, disappearing in the noise around her.

The last thing she saw before the Signal Interceptor reached full power and a zap of bright light blinded her was Danse's pained face.

And then she was gone.

* * *

Fox was thrown from nothingness into a sterile-looking white room. The reality hit her at a high speed and in the form of the floor that she found herself splayed on, limbs thrown in random directions.

_I am alive._

She tried pushing herself off the floor, but arms were not cooperating.

_Do I even have arms?_

A quick look to her sides confirmed that at least half of her limbs had made it through. _And even in the right places!_ Legs were there as well and the first glance told her that they probably hadn't switched places with each other.

After a moment of gathering herself, she tried again. That attempt was more successful, even if standing turned out to be a bigger challenge than anticipated. Fox leaned on the wall, chest rising and falling with the deep breaths that were supposed to calm her down. She was alive and probably in the Institute – that was more than what she had hoped for when she had found out about the Institute's involvement.

_Shaun is here. He has to be._

Fox took another deep breath and readied herself. _One foot after the other. You can do this. Do it for Shaun._

There was only one way out of the room. She yanked the door open and dragged herself along the corridor, leaning heavily against the wall for support as everything around her spun. She made a brief stop to throw up, marking the pristinely clean floor with the last remains of her dinner. The taste of bile in her mouth and the growl in her stomach reminded her that she had skipped breakfast in her hurry. _Not smart, Fox. Not smart at all._

She arrived in a bigger room, one with similarly white walls and floor and ceiling. This one had more furniture though, with shining glass desks lining the walls and vases with beautiful living flowers decorating the shelves above the desks. Everything looked more new and clean than anything Fox had seen since the bombs had been dropped. _Are they making their own furniture from scratch? And where did they get those flowers from?_

A terminal drew her attention. _The holotape._ A tap on her pocket confirmed that the holotape had survived the journey. Within moments, she was at the terminal and typing away, uncovering data that was never meant for her eyes. Not everything could fit on the holotape, so she chose some data that looked like it could interest the Brotherhood, and copied it to the tape.

As her fingers danced on the keyboard, revealing more data while the things she had selected were copying, a strange feeling of calmness settled over her. This was something she knew how to do. For the first time in a long time, she was in her own element. For a moment, she could forget the main reason she was there.

_Shaun._

She snapped back to attention and ejected the holotape as the transfer was done. Her treasure safely pocketed again, she paid closer attention to her surroundings. Two doors. One of them was locked and refused to budge even as she put her full weight against it. The other slid open with ease, revealing another corridor.

Walking down the eerily light corridor made her sink back into that annoying haze that conquered her head and made her thoughts fog up. None of that looked real. It was just another ridiculous nightmare, full of winding corridors and running after Shaun who turned out to never have had existed.

Another door. Fox pushed it open and stumbled over her own feet as her brain registered what was in the room. Icy dread mixed with euphoria in her head as she scrambled up from the floor and threw herself at the glass walls separating her from a small boy with ginger hair and big frightened eyes.

"Shaun! My god, you're alive!" Her fingernails scraped over the glass as she tried to find a way to open the cage.

Shaun recoiled, pushing his back against the wall behind him. "Who are you?"

Fox froze in place. _He doesn't know who I am._ Her body was drenched in non-existent icy water, shutting down her ability to think or feel anything. Her arms fell to the side, eyes staring ahead, seeing everything around Shaun as an irrelevant blur.

Shaun looked around, panic evident on his small face. "Father! There is a stranger here!"

_Father?_ Fox broke out of her layer of ice, brain lurching back to work. "Your father is dead." She kicked herself mentally. _Great, tell the scared child that his dad is dead, that will surely stop the panic. You really are turning into your mother, Fox. Hurting your own child… Shame on you._

She made her voice soft and reassuring, hands pressed against the glass. "It's me, Shaun. I'm your mum. You were taken from me when you were just a baby, but I'm back now. I made it." She slid her hands across the glass again, trying to find an opening. Her voice cracked as unwanted tears invaded her eyes. "I'll take you home."

"I don't know you." Shaun wrapped his arms around his tiny form, eyebrows drawing into a frown. Fox felt a pang of pain as she took in the image of her son in that cage, so small and so scared. He turned his head again, shouting for his father. Desperation sliced through Fox, making a sob escape her lips.

_Of course he wouldn't know me. He was a baby. There is no way he would be able to recognise me._

Her tone turned to pleading. "I'm your mum, Shaun. Please believe me. I'll get you out of here and-"

The sound of a door opening choked back her words. She snapped to attention, her hand ready to draw the weapon. As she moved around the glass cage to get a closer look at the man who had entered, he was saying something. The words didn't register until Shaun's neck and arms fell limp, suspending him in place.

"What did you do to him?" Her voice turned shrill, panic scraping at her throat. "What did you do to Shaun?"

The man just looked at her, head slightly tilted as if her was inspecting a strange phenomenon. "This was unfortunate. He was supposed to recognise you."

"What do you mean?" Fox looked back at Shaun, realisation hitting her like a bag of bricks. "That's… that's not Shaun."

"Correct."

She could barely hold herself back from running into the man, from pounding at his chest with fists and breaking all his bones. _Considering how old he looks, it probably wouldn't take much effort._

Instead, she pulled out her pistol, aiming it at his chest. Head would have worked as well, but the height difference would have meant wearing out her arm muscles too much. So heart it was.

"Start explaining. You have two minutes."

She was surprised at how menacing she sounded, how her hands didn't even shake. _He took Shaun._ She released the safety on the pistol to drive her point home. "Speak."

"This unit is our first attempt at a child synth." The man ran his fingers over the thick white beard covering his chin, a frown deepening on his forehead. "Everything worked as it should have during the last test, so I'm not sure what went wrong with it this time."

He turned his attention back to Fox, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile even with the barrel of the gun pointed at him. "I'm Father. Welcome to the Institute, Rosa Quinn."

"…Father?" Fox pressed her teeth together, anger rising in her. _That's why the synth child was calling for father. He did not mean Nate._

"It's more of a symbol than a name. I'm the leader of the Institute and also the source of most of the genetic material used to create third gen synths." He indicated the powered off synth in the cage with a wave of his hand. "This one was meant for you, as a welcoming present. To make adapting to this new reality a bit easier for you."

Time seemed to slow down to a stop. _He knows my name. He was waiting for me. He knew I was coming. What is this? Am I actually still asleep on the Prydwen? This can't be real._

She managed to press a single word through her teeth, her grip on the pistol easing off as the shaking made it impossible to hold it properly. "Adapting?"

Father started pacing the room with measured steps, still ignoring the end of the weapon that followed his movement. "You see, I hoped you would be joining us once you've seen what the Institute is really capable of. We grow our own plants that yield more nutritious food than anything you can find aboveground. Our technological advancements outpace any pre-war discoveries. This is the best chance for humanity to survive. As a scientist yourself, you should be able to appreciate that."

_This explains nothing._ "Why me?"

Father laughed. "Did you think you got out of the vault because the machines malfunctioned and released you? I had your cryopod opened. I wanted to see whether you were actually as good as the pre-war files on you suggested. And from what I've seen, the files were correct. You would be a great asset to the Institute."

"So you popped the pod open and left me alone in the Wasteland just to see whether I survived? Is this all a sick game for you?" Fox felt violent shakes take over her body as her field of vision narrowed, seeing only Father and that awful little smile he hadn't lost during the entire conversation. "Actually… I don't want to know. The only thing I want you to do is to _bring me my son_. He must be so scared, surrounded by people like you. Let me have Shaun and I'll leave you."

"Ah, Shaun. Your little son." The corner of Father's mouth twitched and his glance flitted towards the synth. "I'm afraid you will not find what you are looking for. There is no little Shaun."

A wave of white rage washed over Fox, blinding her as the roar of an injured animal echoed in the room, the odd noise coming from her own mouth. _There is no Shaun._

Her grasp around the pistol tightened, teeth ground against each other, her head filled with fog.

_No Shaun._

The deafening sound of a gunshot blasted through the room.

She had pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (May 23, 2016)
> 
> Hey dears,
> 
> unfortunately I have to put both my stories on a possibly month-long hiatus. Unexpected health issues aren't allowing me to keep writing for a while, but I will be back as soon as I can. I hope you can all understand and that you will return to this story once I am able to write again.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with this story and see you soon!


	21. No Voices, No Crying

Mist had settled over Boston Airport, wrapping everything in its damp embrace. Danse strained his eyes, trying to see further than the mist allowed, feeling the gnawing feeling in his chest grow stronger.

It had been nearly two days. Rosa had not returned. She had not come back to the Brotherhood, hadn't returned to _him_. It hurt Danse more than he wanted to admit. _Could she have run off, just taken Shaun and left forever? Would she do that?_ He squinted at the horizon, hoping to see her figure appear from the fog. _Or did she get injured and couldn't return? Did she get captured by the Institute?_

He felt a gentle touch on his elbow and turned around, eyebrows drawn together. "What?" Haylen took a step back, startled by his harsh tone. Danse relaxed his shoulders and sighed. "I apologise for being so abrupt. Is something amiss?"

"You didn't come for dinner." Haylen averted her glance, brow knitted in worry. "Again."

"How can I sit down for a meal when she might be trapped in the Institute, waiting for us to rescue her?" He ground his teeth, fingers curling into fists in his pockets as he turned to face the horizon again.

"Starving yourself helps nobody." Haylen stepped next to him, putting on that stern mask she usually used on Rhys when she felt he wasn't looking after himself enough. A small burst of warmth broke through Danse's frozen insides, making him feel less hopeless and alone. Haylen bumped her shoulder against his upper arm, leaving her head leaning on him for a brief moment. "I'm worried about her as well, but I don't see how staring at the fog would help her."

They fell silent for a while, looking at the Wasteland together and enjoying the small breeze that gave them respite from relentless summer heat. He pulled his handkerchief from the pocket to wipe his forehead, but stopped short as he realised he was holding the ink-covered cloth he had used to clean Rosa's face. _Why did I even pocket that again?_

Haylen had noticed it as well, as was evident by the quirk of her eyebrow. "I had been wondering about the blue splotches on your hand." She continued with a measured voice, her eyes narrowing at him. "Strangely enough, Fox had very similar colour on her face before she got zapped away."

Danse shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket. His cheeks felt like they were burning and he cursed in his head. _Like a damn schoolboy. Get it under control, soldier!_

As much as he would have preferred to cut that topic there and then, Haylen was determined to not leave it be. "How odd that you both should appear with similar marks at the same time _and_ that you would refuse to talk about it. One could even think that you were breaking Code of Conduct, the way your face is flaring up."

That got Danse talking as he whipped around to face Haylen, his voice indignant. "If you're trying to insinuate that I would take advantage of-"

She cut him off, raising her hands in the air with palms stretched towards him. "By steel, no! I was joking about the Code of Conduct part. I was only trying to hint that I know you have feelings for her." She paused and the corners of her mouth inched upwards. "And by the way, I think it's great. It's obvious she cares for you as well. And if there's anyone who needs some genuine love and caring, you two definitely belong in that group. I'm happy for you."

He was stunned into silence once more. She knew? And she was fine with it, even encouraging him? Then again, relationships within the Brotherhood weren't unheard of, so why would a different set of rules apply to him? He might have to give up being her CO though, to make sure there was no conflict of interests.

_If she comes back. I have done nothing to help her so far, I have to do more._

This was not like him. He had always been one to plan things, come up with a strategy to make sure things went as they should – that was why he had been promoted to Paladin that fast. And there he was, wandering around the Airport like a lost cat, wasting two days on nothing but despair. That was not how a Paladin of the Brotherhood should behave.

His heart contracted, sending a dull pang through her chest. Yes, how exactly was a Brotherhood Paladin _supposed_ to behave in such a situation? As usually happened when Rosa was involved in something, Danse found his training to be insufficient, lacking the tools he would need to tackle the issue in the best way. She was unpredictable, fierce, passionate, scared and so alone. And there was nothing he could do, since the teleportation machine was not working anymore and nobody knew how else to access the Institute.

His legs moved him forward, launched him into random directions, made him rush through the fog to do _something_ , help her somehow. The lump in his throat made talking difficult, but he pushed through it, shouting the first thing that popped in his head.

"Marco!"

Haylen, who had rushed after him, stopped dead in her tracks. "Marco?"

"It's a pre-war thing. With kids and pools and… She can explain it better." Danse shook his head and continued moving. As ridiculous as it felt, that single word made him feel closer to her, as if she was about to respond any moment. _You won't find her. She is gone._

Danse pressed his teeth together, anger rising at the cruel voice in his head. _No. I will not give up hope. She is coming back. She has to come back._ He gathered his voice and shouted again. "Marco!"

More jogging, more shouts. "Marco!"

He careened around an abandoned building, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"MARCO!"

"Polo."

The response was so quiet that he thought he had imagined it. He shouted again, expecting to only hear the wind answering. But there it was.

"Polo!"

The voice was dry and cracking, but unmistakeably familiar. And it was close. He shouted again and again, his heart frantically thumping, Rosa's weak voice guiding him forward through the wreck of the house, making him rush past rubble and stumble upon the remains of furniture, strewn around the floors.

There she was. Crumpled on a scrap of carpet, arms wrapped around her head as she rocked back and forth, her voice reduced to a whisper as she said "Polo" once more. Danse fell to his knees next to her and pulled her into his embrace, tears of relief pooling in his eyes.

_She's alive. She's here. Rosa is alive._

He kissed her temple, not caring about the dirt that had built up on her face and the blood that he was getting on his clothes from hugging her close.

_Blood?_

He pushed himself away from her to check the extent of her injuries. She didn't seem to be shot, but her knuckles were all but destroyed, greyish pieces of stone sticking out from torn flesh. A quick look at the walls and the furniture around them made his heart contract in a painful way. She had trashed the room, as much as it was possible to do in an already destroyed house. Smears of her blood were on the corner of the tilted armchair and in the middle of the broken mirror that had fallen to the floor, drops of blood trailing to where she was on the ground, pooling at her feet.

There was something worse than the blood though. He lifted her head to look her in the eyes, but she didn't look back. It was as if she had left her body behind while her mind explored better places. The eyes were dead, there was no spark of her personality of even of recognising him. Her head lolled back down as soon as he let go of her chin, her shoulders slumping against him.

"Is she alive?"

Haylen had arrived. She knelt next to them both, worry written in every line of her face. Danse wasn't quite sure what was happening around him, other than knowing that he was holding Rosa and that she hadn't abandoned them. She was there.

_But where is Shaun?_

She had lost her son. There couldn't be any other explanation to this. He was gone, leaving behind the broken mind of his mother, this shell of a person in his arms. _Is there a way to come back from that? Can she move on from this, make a new life for herself?_

He didn't know. The only thing he knew was that he would be there for her every step of the way, whatever she would decide to do. He had nearly lost her too many times. It couldn't happen again; he couldn't fail her.

As though through fog, the back of his mind registered Haylen moving around them, lifting Rosa's arm and examining her head and doing something with her neck. He felt as if he should understand what was going on, but it all felt unimportant and so far away. The only thing that made sense to him was that Rosa was there.

"She seems physically rather fine, save for her hands." _So that's what Haylen had been doing. Of course._ "I'm not sure she understands anything that is happening around her though. Danse, we have to get her back to the Prydwen. She needs to get to the infirmary."

"No." He stood, scooping Rosa in his arms. "She hates that place. If there's anything that will make sure she will not want to return, it's getting her strapped to an infirmary bed again."

"…what are you doing?" Haylen followed on his heels, barely keeping up with Danse's long strides as he headed towards the airport. "Danse, where are you taking her?"

"To the Prydwen. But not to the infirmary. There is an empty room in the Knights' area, I'll take her there. She needs some peace and quiet."

"You can't keep her secret from the others, you know. Everyone will hear immediately that she's back from the Institute." Something in Haylen's voice made him stop and turn to face her, eyebrows drawing together as his hold around Rosa tightened.

"I don't have to keep her return a secret. I'll just have to keep the others off her until she feels well enough to talk about what happened. I will not let them hound her for answers before she is ready for it." He looked down at her weak form, her eyes shut and her head leaning against his chest. She had been so strong, getting through everything and fighting for her son. It was his turn to be strong for her, to help her through the grief.

He didn't let go of her as they boarded the vertibird to get to Prydwen. He barely answered to the pilot besides "Just get us there.", leaving the conversational part to Haylen. The journey through the airship was like an obstacle course, causing him to dodge groups of people and bark orders to get them to move out of the way, never stopping for any explanations.

Until he found Maxson standing in his way.

Danse felt his adrenaline levels spike, mentally preparing himself for a confrontation. He didn't want to stand up against his Elder, but he was willing to take that step, if need be. _Hell, there is little I wouldn't be willing to do, if it would give her just an ounce of peace back._

Maxson's mouth curled into an approving smile. "Knight Quinn has returned, I see. I assume you're on your way to the infirmary."

Danse gave a shake of his head, his arms tightening around her once more. "You know as well as I do that she wouldn't have a quiet moment there. I know you want answers, as well as everyone else on this damn ship, but for now she needs silence and time for recovery."

Danse's expression hardened as Maxson gave him a quizzical look, prompting him to explain himself.

"Do you see her son with her? No? Then you see why she needs time. I will let you know the moment she is ready to talk. But for now, allow me to do my duty as her CO and get her away from this crowd so she can mourn and heal in peace."

He pointed his head towards the crowd that had been steadily been growing on his heels as he made his way through the corridors, people ogling at Rosa's limp form and whispering among themselves. He let out a sigh of relief as Maxson gave a curt nod. The Elder stepped around him to order everyone to get back to their posts or leisure activities and give Knight Quinn some well-earned space.

The rest of the way was a blur. He didn't know when or where Haylen had lagged behind or whether she had even boarded the vertibird with them. He didn't know how he managed to steer his legs in the right direction, to the Knights' wing that was mostly empty as its inhabitants were either stationed all over the Wasteland or enjoying their post-dinner relaxation time.

Danse nudged the door to the empty room open with his elbow, careful not to let Rosa slip from his arms. His chest was on fire from holding her that close, burning from not knowing whether she was alright or whether she would ever be alright again. She had not uttered a single word after guiding him with the Polo-responses and that worried him. It wasn't often that Rosa was at a loss for words.

He lowered her gently to one of the vacant beds in the room and brushed his fingers across her forehead to check for fever. She was clammy and cold, despite the summery weather outside and the heavy heat aboard the airship.

"Rosa?" He kept his voice low and gentle, hoping to pull her out of wherever she had sunk to. "Rosa, can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered open. Her eyes darted around the room before fixating on his face. A sigh escaped her lips and she pressed her eyes shut, tears finding their way out from between the lids. Danse pulled her back to his chest, as that was the only thing he could do to help her.

Or no, not the only thing. She had been dragging herself through the Wasteland in this relentless heat, she must have felt terrible. "Rosa, would it be okay if I helped you to the shower? We should clean the dirt and blood off you. It might make you feel better."

He tucked a stray strand of her wonderfully messy hair behind her ear, letting his fingers savour the sensation, his heart pounding at having her so close, leaning against him again. _She came back._

Danse had almost forgotten what he had asked her by the time she gave a barely noticeable nod. _What? Ah yes, the shower._

He left her on the bed for a short bit, promising to return as fast as he could. He picked up a clean change of clothes for her from her bunk, grabbed an extra set for himself and a few towels from his own room and hurried back to her.

Rosa had curled up on the bed, her eyes shut and fingers cramped around the crumpled blanket underneath her. Seeing her like that made the scratching feeling in his chest return, made him want to hold on to her and never let go, to stand between her and all the worries she had.

But the best he could do was a shower. So that would have to do.

This time, she slid her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the bed. He had already taken the towels and clothes to the bench in the bathroom, so all that was left to do was to get Rosa there and clean the grime off her face and body.

Danse held her upright against his chest while his other arm reached out to turn on the shower and test the temperature. Once he had made sure it was pleasantly warm, he wrapped both his arms around her shuddering form and moved them both under the stream of water. It didn't matter that he had forgotten about the clothes that were getting soaked and clinging to their skin. What mattered was that she reacted to the water and slid her arms around him as well, bringing herself closer to him and his heart that was thumping so hard that it threatened to drown out the noise of the water splattering on and around them.

They swayed under the stream, Rosa's fingers clinging to the wet folds of Danse's shirt and his fingers gently untangling her hair, smoothing it out and massaging her scalp to relax her. The faint smell of iron-heavy water mixed with blood and dirt, grounding Danse and allowing him to stay focused on the moment, even when his mind wanted to escape that reality and take them both to a time where this misery didn't exist.

"It will all be okay." He didn't believe the words himself, but he said them anyway. Perhaps they would offer her some comfort. Or perhaps his voice could act as an anchor, as hers had been when she had found him at Fort Strong. He kissed the top of her head, trying to relieve the dull ache that was taking over his entire being.

She still said nothing, but her shoulders were jutting out just a little bit less as the water washed away her tears, her neck feeling just a bit less tense under his fingers, her grip on his back relaxing into a gentle hold.

"Let me take a look at your hands." She didn't protest when he turned her around, letting her back lean against his chest so she wouldn't lose balance. Her battered hand looked so tiny in his palms that it sent another pang of pain through him. Taking care not to hurt her more than needed, he picked out the loose pieces of stone and rubbed his fingers over the dried patches of blood. A swirl of red mixed with the water around the drain as her knuckles started bleeding again, but Danse refused to look at that. He knew she was hurting, he didn't need another reminder of that.

Peeling the wet clothes off her was a challenge, but he was glad to see that at least she didn't have any major injuries. She had bruises and a generous layer of dirt, but no bullet wounds, no ghoul bites, not even any mole rat tooth marks. He planted a kiss on her shoulder, feeling lucky that he was even able to do that. She still didn't say anything, but she closed her hand around his, barely reaching the sides of his palm, and gave it a weak squeeze.

She looked better once they were both dry and sitting on the bed, having shed some of her despair with the filthy clothes that were left in a heap on the bathroom floor. Danse pulled her back into his embrace, as if he was frightened that she would disappear the moment he was not holding her.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was muffled, filtering through her hair that his face was hidden in. "If there is anything I can do, you only have to ask."

"There's nothing anyone can do." She sounded raspy, the words pressed out with effort. "He is gone."

Danse shut his eyes, willing them to pull back the tears that threatened to start pooling. This was no time for him to show weakness, as much as seeing her in this state hurt him. She was hurting more. She needed him to be strong.

Her fingers curled inwards, making her nails scrape his arm. "I saw the head of the Institute. He was there. He mocked me, offering me a synth child as a replacement for my son. How can anyone be this cruel? He must have no understanding of human emotions at all, if he thinks a child can ever be replaced."

His Adam's apple bobbed hard as he swallowed, feeling at a loss for words. The Institute had done a lot of horrid things, but this felt like a stab to the heart. After everything Rosa had been through, the Institute _had_ to twist a knife in her injury, to kick a woman who was already down. This was low even for them.

"How did you get out of there?" This was hardly the most important issue, but he couldn't bring himself to discuss her son. Not when it made her eyes have that vacant stare again, made her look like a hollow shell of the wonderful person he knew.

"I…" Rosa winced and sunk her forehead against his chest. "I had to run for the teleporter, after I shot Father. I mean, the head of the Institute. He called himself Father. I think I might have killed him."

Danse felt a jolt going through him as he heard that confession. This small woman in his arms had singlehandedly found out how to access the Institute, been brave enough to go through a machine that could have ended up vaporising her, and on top of that, taken down the most dangerous man in the Commonwealth. She didn't even seem to appreciate how much she had done.

"That is not necessarily a bad thing. You left the Institute without a leader, Rosa." He realised how cold that sounded the moment the words had left his mouth. _She is grieving for her son and broken down over killing someone and you are focusing on the benefits for the Brotherhood? You don't deserve her._

"I don't know where to go from here." She looked up at him, eyebrows scrunched up in worry. "This whole time I kept going for Shaun. I have nothing left."

Danse's throat contracted and he pulled her head back to his chest, fingers cradling the side of her face. "You have me. You will always have me."

She didn't respond, only wrapped her arms around his waist and sighed, new tears soaking the front of his shirt. There was nothing more to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad to break this hiatus! I hope you can still remember what happened in this story previously and that you will return to reading now that I'm back. It's been a rough two months for me and I have no guarantees that my health won't fail me again, but I'm hoping that I won't need a break again.
> 
> While recovering, I found comfort in drawing and painting, so now I'm also posting my art. Head over to http://paladingarrus.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20art to see what I've been up to.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for sticking with this story!


	22. Crawl Out Through The Fallout

Paladin. She was a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel.

Fox took a moment to mull over that, rolling the word around on her tongue to get acquainted with its foreign feel. It seemed to be something big and important… but at the same time ultimately worthless. What was the point of any of that?

A passing Knight saluted her. She went through the motions mechanically, hearing herself respond to the congratulations and feeling nothing. _So I’m a Paladin. Yay… I guess._

The uneasy feeling left by Maxson’s speech tickled her inside. Not the pleasant kind of tickles though, the ones that make you laugh. No, these were the kind that brushed against her heart and gave it a fearful flutter; the kind that made her wonder how far was Maxson from declaring that everything in the Wasteland belonged to the Brotherhood and anyone who had issues with that could find a vertibird aiming at them. _Hey, considering how often those hunks of metal crash, this would be a serious threat!_

Familiar footsteps fell in line with hers. She turned her head to greet Danse and an involuntary smile spread over her face. It was nowhere close to a happy smile, but she did get a flash of a warm content feeling, knowing he was there for her. That was better than the complete numbness that had overtaken her whole being for the past few weeks. If nothing else could break through the fog in her head, the hulking form of her favourite grumpy Commanding Officer was her safe haven, a momentary respite from the grief that gnawed at her day and night.

“You’re not anymore though.” She continued her thoughts out loud, earning a confused frown from Danse.

“And if I may ask, what am I not?” He sounded mildly amused, even with the worried gleam that never seemed to leave his eyes these days.

“My Commanding Officer.” She didn’t want to see the worry, so she fixed her eyes on the corridor ahead instead. “I know the title is mostly ceremonial anyway as I haven’t done much and I’ve spent half a month cooped up in that room, but at least technically I now hold the same rank as you have.”

_Why does he have that look that I’ve said something wrong? Is he annoyed he’s not my boss anymore?_

“Not that I didn’t enjoy being under you…” She blinked, her train of thought running off the rails as her cheeks flared up in pink. _What’s wrong with me?_ A dull pang of yearning hit her, urging her to latch onto Danse and… She grimaced, eyebrows drawing an angry ‘v’.

_Ladies and gentlemen, the grieving mother of the century!_

The sharp voice made Fox recoil and freeze in her tracks, shame and guilt washing over her. Her hands slammed down on her ears to suffocate the sounds, to drown the lashing voice out with the pain of the pressure.

_You would never have been a good mother anyway._

She crumpled over, nails digging into her skull as she whimpered. The voice was cruel, echoing through her head and slicing through her heart, hitting where it hurt the most.

_You have turned into your own mother. You don’t deserve any pity or love, you’re a monster._

Danse pressed her side against his, marching her through the corridors. She could feel the stares of the others, their pity and disgust at the wreck she was. _This_ was a Paladin?

_You are a joke._

Danse settled down on his bed and pulled her onto his lap. It took her a moment to realise that he hadn’t taken her to the room she had claimed after the Institute. She didn’t mind, that room had too many bad memories already. Fox let herself melt into his touch. His breath in her hair soothed her, the familiar embrace banished the inner voice that hated who she was, who she had become.

“The voice again?” He sounded tired, so damn tired. He had given all his free time to her, staying by her side and making sure nobody would bother her. He had given so much. Fox wasn’t sure how much energy he had left and the thought hurt her.

She didn’t know how to respond, so she only nodded, feeling ridiculous and weak.

“It’s alright. I get those voices too. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Fox couldn’t hold back a snort. She raised an eyebrow at Danse who just shook his head as a chuckle rumbled up through his chest.

“Alright, I know I’m not the best role model for that myself. But you can’t deny you’ve been beating yourself up over this for long enough. None of this was your fault. You did your best.”

“And yet it wasn’t enough.” She sighed. “But yeah, I get your point.”

He pressed a kiss on top of her head. “Good. Whenever you feel ready for leaving the dormitories, let me know. I can arrange for something to do that involves no guns.”

Fox closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of old books, cat food and Danse. It was the best thing she had ever smelled, even better than freshly mowed grass or flowers or the metallic and quiet air of a laboratory on a Saturday morning. It smelled like safety and a home that she had never had.

“Could I stay here?”

“As long as you wish.” Danse kissed her head again and she opened her eyes to stare at him. She had to make sure he understood what she was asking, before she would lose her courage and deny she had ever said anything.

“No, I don’t mean until dinner or something. Can we move a bed here?”

“We are sitting on a bed.” Danse gestured towards his sad excuse for a bed that could barely even fit his wide frame. Fox felt a strong need to facepalm.

“Do I need to spell it out?” She sighed, realising whom she was talking to. “Right. Of course I do. Danse, you lovely oaf. This is pretty much me asking whether we could move in together. As in live in the same room. Perhaps even one bed. One that is slightly wider than your shoulders, if you can imagine that. It’s a bit squishy here when sleeping together, you see. And I’m rambling. Nevermind. This is all ridiculous, forget I said anything. You’d be better off without me anyw-“

Danse cut her off with a kiss. His stubble tickled her, making her laugh and push him away. “Stooop, you haven’t even answered!”

“Of course we can move a bed here! Finding a wide one can prove difficult, but we can at least get another normal dorm bed.” The crinkles around his eyes and the sudden lack of worry on his face made the sweet ache of affection and yearning in Fox’s chest return. How did I deserve such a man?

She didn’t dare to say that out loud, opting for a sarcastic remark instead. “Ooh, a bunk bed! How romantic.”

Danse pulled back to inspect her expression, a frown spreading on his face. “Of course we can try to find a big bed, if that would make you happier. Not sure how that would fit on a vertibird though to bring it here, but I could make it work somehow.”

“Nah, it is all fine. Don’t worry about it, I was just being silly.” She patted him on the leg, a small grin tugging her mouth upwards. “Besides, separate beds would help me against dead limbs anyway. You are impossible to move once you’re asleep.”

A soft meow drew her attention to the door. “I think your friends are here to demand their evening offerings.”

Danse was already on his way, a box of food in one hand and the other opening the door. Within moments, the bowl was full of food – not that it could be seen, not with the cats crowding around it and climbing over each other to get better access.

“Stop pushing each other.” Danse nudged one of the smaller cats who tried to make his way over someone’s head. “Squire, learn some manners.”

Fox couldn’t help a chuckle. “Did you name all of them?”

Danse looked sheepish. “I have to tell them apart somehow. That small one is Squire. The one that practically flew in is Pilot.” He pointed at a small black cat near him. “She is Commander. Others follow her lead and even Pilot doesn’t go anywhere without her approval.”

He told her of everyone’s names and habits while the cats were busy eating, but Fox wasn’t listening anymore. Danse’s deep voice and the proud way he presented all the cats was ridiculous and endearing at the same time, so she found herself lost in staring at him instead.

She snapped back to attention once the cats were done with the food and started leaving one by one. Danse tidied up the eating area, but left the door cracked open, as if he was waiting for someone else.

Sure enough, soon a tiny head peeked in. Big scared eyes scanned the room, one ear listening to possible sounds inside and the other angled towards the corridor. Once the room was deemed safe enough, the cat snuck towards the food bowl that now had a new portion set up. With the ears still cautiously swivelling towards each and every sound, the small ball of fur set to eating, pausing every now and then to check the room.

Danse gave Fox a small grin. “That is Oliver.” His voice was hushed, but Oliver’s ears still turned towards the source of the noise. “Small, scared of everything and eats like she’s always starving.”

“She?”

Danse laughed and sat on the floor near the cat. “I had already named her Oliver by the time she trusted me enough to let me close. The name stuck.” Oliver gave him a cautious look, but resumed eating. Danse started scratching her behind the ears, his big hands moving surprisingly delicately through the fur of the tiny cat, tracking the patterns drawn on her tawny fur in lines of darker warm brown.

_This is so adorable that I might just break._

Oliver let out a tiny meow as Danse stopped, making him chuckle and continue petting her.

_Yuuuup, that was the sound of my heart breaking into a thousand pieces from the cuteness. Or perhaps my ovaries exploding._

She sighed, tilting her head at the sight in front of her. _Ovaries. Definitely ovaries._

"Can I pet her too?" She started inching forward in small careful moves so she wouldn't spook the cat.

Danse nodded. "I'm not sure she will allow you to get close, but you can try." He reached for the bowl and passed Fox some cat food. "Here, try with this."

"Here, kitty-kitty!" Fox stretched out her arm, the food placed on her palm. Oliver's ears swivelled towards her first, followed by the rest of the body. Fox could have sworn the kitten scowled as she stared at the food. "Here, come get the nice food! Come on!"

Oliver took a step forward. Another one. Then he froze with her white paw shivering mid-air, ready to bolt. Fox moved her hand a bit closer to close the gap.

Wrong move. Oliver darted back to Danse's side, tail swinging and eyes fixed on Fox.

"She's a big scaredy-cat. Give her time." Danse scratched Oliver gently on the head and the cat stretched to meet him better and get him to scratch under the chin as well. Fox felt a ridiculous pang of jealousy at that. She placed the food on the floor and wiped her hands on her trousers. _Fine. Don't come to me then. Didn't want to pet you anyway._

Her disappointed pout turned into a grin as Oliver took a break from petting and snuck over to the food. She looked up after every bite, making sure Fox hadn't moved from where she sat. Fox did her best to stay as still as a statue. Oliver was so close that she could have reached her hand out and touched her, but the cat would have run. So she didn't do anything besides looking.

"What on earth made her so scared of everything?"

Danse shrugged. "There are a lot of people on this ship and not all of them are friendly towards animals. I prefer not to think what could have been done to her."

The mental images of what could have happened to Oliver made Fox shudder, so she changed the topic. "How did cats get here anyway? It's not like they flew here."

"No, but they were flown here." Danse leaned against the wall. Oliver jumped and stared at him for a while before she deemed the environment safe enough to resume eating. "Some rodents found their way to Prydwen in crates of food and they bred until you couldn't set foot in the storage rooms without stepping on one. So cats were brought to keep the rodent population under control."

"Let me guess - nobody considered the possibility of the cat population getting out of control."

Danse nodded and sighed. "Soon enough, there were so many of them roaming around that Maxson gave the order to start culling cats. I couldn't stomach that, so I tried transporting as many off the ship as possible. The situation is mostly under control for now."

"So you started feeding them in your room and naming them, once you were sure you wouldn't be losing members of your kitty family every day." Fox realised it sounded like she was mocking him, but that couldn't have been farther from truth. "You're still distancing yourself from them a bit though, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?" Danse looked genuinely confused. Fox laughed. _He gets that look so often with me that it's getting almost absurd._

"You didn't really give them names. I mean, come on! Squire? Commander? These are military ranks, not names." She gave Oliver a side glance. "I guess she took a special place in your heart, since you gave her an actual name. Again with the small helpless orphans, huh?"

Danse took a defensive stance, shoulders squared and a frown on his face. "I am just making sure they survive, since they have the same right to live as we do. They're good honest animals."

"I didn't mean it this way." Fox's eyes followed Oliver as the ball of fur slinked back to Danse, demanding scratches and affection. His expression softened as he started petting her, making Fox's insides contract with yearning again.

Oliver didn't stay for long. She got her petting and scratching needs fulfilled, licked the food bowl clean so nothing was left behind and gone she was, her fluffy tail disappearing behind the door.

Danse groaned as he pushed himself up from the floor, joints cracking with the movement. He offered Fox a hand to pull her up as well. He was warm and solid and his heart thumped so fast when she leaned her head against his chest. Fox sighed and closed her eyes, wanting to never move again.

The air felt like disappointment and loneliness when he stepped back some moments later _. Don't be silly, you can't be attached to his hip. Let the man move around._

He returned to her side after fetching something from his shelf. "I want you to have this."

The bobblehead looked small in his palm, the melted eyes cheerfully looking up at Fox. _Creepy. I kind of like it._

As she made no move to take it, Danse used his free hand to take Fox's and place it around the bobblehead. "Take it. It's yours."

"But why?" blurted Fox in confusion as her fingers closed down on the plastic figurine. "I mean… thank you. But still, why?"

Danse ruffled the hair at the back of his head, distracting Fox. _It's getting long. I guess his last haircut was ages ago. I kind of like this length though._

"This was Cutler's." Danse swallowed. He looked uncomfortable, unfamiliar with handling such situations. "He was the closest person I had ever had. Having him by my side made Rivet City bearable. Cutler helped me more than anyone had ever done and he was always there when I needed a friend."

He gestured towards the bobblehead before returning the hand to his neck and giving a small cough. "This is from the last batch of goods that Cutler and I were trying to sell before getting recruited by the Brotherhood. He loved it to bits for some strange reason, displaying it proudly on his bunk-side table. I kept it after he…"

Danse fell silent. Fox squeezed his upper arm to comfort him and craned her head upwards to meet his glance. "Are you sure you'd rather not keep it yourself?"

"No, it's fine." His voice was raspy, making Fox's skin tingle with sympathy for this man that had gone through way more than anyone should in one lifetime. He coughed again to clear his throat. "Anyway, I figured that you could maybe carry it with you. Put it in your pocket so you would have something solid to hold on to when the world starts feeling unreal again."

Fox's hand flew up to cover her mouth. A painful wave washed over her body. She had been convinced that her daily struggle with keeping herself focused on the real world was hidden well enough, that the way she kept touching things to make sure they were real wasn’t that obvious. He had noticed. He knew.

She felt his fingers ghosting over her cheek. "Rosa? Are you alright?" He took a sharp intake of breath. "Of course. I am so sorry. This is another Vault thing, something that would keep reminding you of… This was so careless of me, I-"

"It's perfect." Rosa tucked the bobblehead in her pocket to get it out of the way and threw her arms around him, squeezing him close to her heart. "Thank you."

His sigh of relief brushed against her hair and he enclosed her in his embrace, cheek leaning on her head.

The only thing in Fox's head besides blissful silence was the flutter of butterflies that had spread from her stomach to take over her entire body. In that moment, she was made of butterfly wings and warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had another month-long break. I really didn't want to do it, but another health crash made writing almost impossible. As I have no control over when such things happen, I will make no promises for when I'd be able to update again, but I will write as much as I can.
> 
> Thank you so much for returning to read this <3 As a small present, have my painting of young Danse during his Rivet City years:
> 
> [](http://paladingarrus.tumblr.com/post/146563475945/young-danse-in-his-rivet-city-years)


	23. The Infiltrator

His chest heaved, disbelief searing through his mind. His head was blank. No, it was full of horror – so full that there was no space left for thinking.  The green abomination’s eyes stared back at Danse. They were raw with hatred, but that glimpse of humanity in them threw him off balance.

Those were Cutler’s eyes. This was Cutler.

“No.” The gun shook in his hands, the end pointed at his friend – no, at the monster.

_Cutler. By steel. What have I done? How did I let this happen?_

He pressed his eyes shut and teeth together, willed his finger to squeeze down on the trigger.

_I am sorry. I am so sorry, Cutler._

The moment of hesitation cost him dearly. A giant green fist reached out, made contact with his eyebrow with the weight of a vertibird, and knocked him clean off his feet.

An explosion of pain rocked through Danse’s head, cutting off his vision and masking all sounds with the whistling of impending death. This was it. This was the day he died.

This was the day he should have died.

But no, he forced his eyes open through sheer stubbornness, looked up at the monster that had its huge fists raised to pound down on him… and how it hesitated. Something flashed in its deranged eyes, something that made Danse’s heart feel worse pain than his injured head.

“I’m sorry.” Danse’s voice was barely audible. His heart felt like it was being torn apart, but he pulled the trigger just as a giant fist slammed down. The gun flew from his hands, left him helpless and open, forced him to hit the monster with bare knuckles, making it scream out in a high-pitched voice, followed by a pained gasp.

Danse jolted up, his eyes getting used to the dimly lit bedroom. The lamp on his bedside table was turned on, despite him having no memory of doing that.

_Wait, how did I get here? What- No! No-no-no._

He tore himself from the remains of the nightmare to focus on the mess of red hair on the side of his bed. Her cheekbone was already flaring up in an angry red colour, highlighting the white knuckle marks and lining the tear in her skin.

“You were screaming in your sleep, so I tried waking you up.” Her voice was distorted by the crying that she was trying to hold back, her hand gingerly touching the edge of the quickly forming bruise. “I… I couldn’t wake you and suddenly you just…”

“I am so sorry. This is inexcusable.” Danse took a heavy breath, guilt and horror washing over him. “This should have never happened. I should have never told you it was okay to move here. I am not safe for you, not like this.”

“Alex, shut it.” She started furiously wiping tears with the back of her hand, new ones pooling up faster than she could brush away. She sniffled, creating an entirely unpleasant wet snort at the back of her nose. “Seriously. I chose to come and wake you, so don’t you dare blame yourself.”

Danse buried his face in his palms, too ashamed to even look at her, not to mention touch her. Rosa inched closer to lift his face with an insistent tug at his chin, her damp fingers brushing against his stubble. “Hey, stop this. I forbid you to beat yourself up over this. We both have nightmares. And it’s not like you _planned_ to do this.”

He could hear the shift in her voice and recognised her attempt at easing his mind with her personal brand of humour. It made him feel even worse.

_She’s the one who is hurt, so why am I not comforting her? I’m being selfish. Selfish as usual._

Danse took a deep breath and forced himself to bury his shame until the situation had been sorted out. He turned the bedside lamp to shine a light onto her face, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Rosa, this needs stitches.” His jaw tightened. _I am a monster._ “How can I not beat myself up over this?”

“Easy, I already took the beating for you.” Rosa’s grin was cut off by a wince and a sharp intake of breath. “Damn, already punished for my bad humour. Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do.” She smacked her lips, as if she had just eaten something sour and entirely unpleasant. “I promise to go to Cade and get this stitched up. Also, from now on I’ll only wake you by poking you with a stick from a safe distance. And after evening snuggles, both retire to their own beds.”

“Sounds like a wise plan. If you do not poke me in the eye.” He took another look at her face, pushed himself off the bed and offered his hand to pull her up as well. “Cade’s. Now. I promise to leave Oliver’s food until you’re back so you could try to feed her again.”

Rosa wiped at her runny nose, smearing snot and blood on her cheek with a careless move. “She will probably just hiss at me and insist you feed her, but it’s worth another try.” She made a disgusted noise at the mess on the back of her hand and tried shaking it off. “Considering how gross I tend to look around you, you must have a fetish for messed up people.”

“Not all messed up people. Just you.” Danse swatted gently at her behind. “Go on. You need to leave some time for breakfast as well before your first day back at work.”

“Shit. I had almost forgotten that. Now I feel beaten up _and_ sick.” She straightened her shoulders and closed her eyes for a deep breath that she let out through barely open teeth. “Alright. If I’m not back in half an hour, please come and rescue me from Cade.”

“Or rescue Cade from you,” replied Danse as the door shut behind her. He could only hope that she wouldn’t lose her courage half-way. She needed to start moving around again. More importantly, she needed things to do that would take her mind off her greatest enemy – her own thoughts.

* * *

The glow of the terminal screen reflected in Fox’s eyes, the eerie green light contrasting with her flared up cheek. The room felt small, too small to fit the mess swirling around in her head.

It was suffocating.

_As horrid as it sounds, I’m so glad Ingram has had her own share of trauma. Means there’s someone here who understands what’s going on. Though I bet others are even more messed up, but in their own ways. In the Wasteland, is there such a thing as a happy and healthy person? What’s the point anyway, if we’re all screwed and broken?_

Despite the morbid topic, the inner monologue helped her focus, to drown out the outside world that was pressing down on her skull and crushing her lungs. At least there wasn’t anyone else around. This way she could battle the creeping fingers of anxiety on her back without worrying about someone seeing her hunched up shoulders or hearing her rushed breath.

_So, first day back and I get the impossible task. The one others had failed at. Great._

She twirled the holotape around between her fingers, straining to focus on any visible defects. _I guess it’s fair, since it’s my fault this got fucked up._ She cringed. _Even in the state I was in, I should have told Alex that the holotape was in my pocket. That’s the last thing that would need a shower. Unless I manage to retrieve something useful from this mess of scrambled data, the Institute visit was for nothing. Nothing at all._

She dropped the holotape on the desk as a wave of shivers took over and the cold hand of panic squeezed at her throat. _It’s okay. It will all be fine. I can do this. I can._

Fox pushed her nails in her palm, but the helpful pang of pain wasn’t there. _Is this even my own hand?_

She stared down at the hands that seemed to belong to a stranger, her head felt light and distant and not at all connected to the rest of her body.

Who was that woman? And what was she doing there?

_This isn’t me._

The room spun, her mouth gasped in air and pushed it down to the body she didn’t own, fuelling that lump of strange flesh below her head. She couldn’t feel the chair she was sitting on. If there even was a chair.

_I am not here. This is not me._

Her already narrow field of vision got cut down to a small circle with flared edges. Everything outside the circle spun off at a disorienting speed. It tilted and turned, a blur of motion and a strange distant noise that threatened to deafen her. Shortness of breath fuelled her panic and distanced her from the last strands of reality. Through a fog, she watched one of those strange hands reach into a pocket and pull something out. A figurine. A small plastic toy with an eerie melted face stared back at her.

Warmth anchored in her stomach, pulled her floating head back to her body. Her hand shook as feeling came back to the fingers clamped around the bobblehead, tingles of nerves spreading down through the arm that had been numb moments before.

_Alex._

Her fingers brushed against the rough surface of the bobblehead’s face.

_This is real. Alex is real and he’s waiting for me. He said I can do this and he is a wise man. Though sometimes so stupid. But he exists and he loves me._

Relief washed over her in bubbling waves as she started feeling her neck again and everything was connected. She could do this. This was entirely doable, it was just some techie-stuff that she could do in her sleep.

_Though perhaps not in my sleep. This is a whole new level of fucked up._

Fox massaged her brow as she blew an accidental raspberry with the mouth that was hers again. The vibration in her lips made her laugh – not because it was particularly funny, but because she felt it and it was her body. She was there.

She found herself humming as she went through the contents of the holotape, trying to patch things together and make sense of them. She had to frequently stop to think, throwing herself back in the chair, only to launch herself at the console again with vigour every time an idea sparked. Most of the ideas led nowhere. Some of them helped. Slowly but surely, she crept closer to having useful data to present.

_Look at me, magical Fox at work! Nobody else could crack this! And I’m doing it!_

Her grin died down as she realised she was also the only one with official education in that field. _But hey, all that matters is that I’m being helpful again. I’m not useless anymore._

Lunch break was tough. She went through the motions in a daze, barely realising she was talking or that her hand was shovelling food towards her mouth. Alex wasn’t there. _No wonder – he’s been so busy with me that I bet Maxson is pissing himself with joy over having his best operative back. I can only hope he won’t get deployed immediately, now that I’m working again._

She was glad to retreat to the cramped space Ingram had assigned for her top-secret assignment. It was small, but it was hers. No stares, no small-talk, nobody reminding her that she looked beaten up. All of that didn’t matter as she sat at the desk, the bobblehead perched on top of the terminal and her fingers dancing across the keyboard. This was the best kind of tunnel vision, the kind that made her feel safe and secure and very much needed. She was good at something. _So damn good._

Fox whooped and raised her arms in victory. Most of the holotape was still scrambled, but she had managed to retrieve something. A bit of the data was legible. Not all was lost.

_Should I get Ingram now?_ She chewed on her lip before releasing it into a grin. _Nah, my work. I’m sure I’m allowed a small peek first. And even if she and Maxson would mind… I’d be reading it later anyway. Might as well save time._

She pressed a button and leaned closer to the console screen with a deep breath and twinkling eyes. _Ooo, jackpot! A list of Institute’s operatives and their last assignments! Damn, I’m good._ She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back before continuing with the material.

The operatives had codenames, but that didn’t bring Fox down. This was a step closer to shutting down that house of horrors; a bit of information they didn’t have before. Even one synth operative less was a victory.

She opened the next file. It was missing some parts and what remained made no sense. It was just a list of names paired up with strange number and letter combinations. _More codenames? Well, better than nothing._

Going through the lines, her mouth fell open, only to spread in an even wider grin a moment later. _This might be an even bigger goldmine than the previous file! Holy shit. I think I just discovered a list of undercover synths. This is big. We can take out their spies and remove their sources of information. We can cripple the Institute on the inside._

The stitches on her cheek started pulling and itching from too much smiling, so she forced a neutral expression on her face. That had no effect on the storm on the inside, on the insane waves of success and joy rolling around in her stomach. She was useful. She was needed. She was-

Her eyes locked down on a familiar name. Her heart launched into her throat and shut down her air supply in one swift move.

…S _o damn fucked._

The creeping fingers were back, clutching at her heart and squeezing it with their sharp nails. Her entire chest felt cold as anxiety spread through her body, claiming one organ and one limb at a time. Her head wasn’t there anymore, she was floating in nothingness again as the line she had just read burned her eyes, forever scorched into her mind.

_Alexander Danse – M7-97._


End file.
